


Nuances of Color

by Linea14



Series: Nuances of Worlds [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drawing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galra are a gang, I hope i portrayed it, I love their dynamic tbh, Keith is lonely, Lance got in some deep shit as a child, Lance has ice powers, Lance has trust issues, M/M, Sniper Lance (Voltron), Somehow this is also a, Sort of? - Freeform, The poor kid, Voltron is a group of mercenaries, and Keith has fire powers, but with superpowers, its complicated, klangst, lance is a mess, powers au, sniper!lance, sort of, sort of like hitmen?, superhero au, theres alot of sort ofs here, who am i kidding everyones a mess, zarkon is evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8753362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linea14/pseuds/Linea14
Summary: The Blue sniper is always fighting the Red bodyguard, both using their magic abilities to bring drawings to life and fighting with them.But Blue has a deeper past then Red will ever have expected, so what happens when for once their on the same team?Or: A certain group funds Voltron, a group of heroes (ish) who can summon things they draw into spells and objets.  But in a world of mercenaries and death, will they survive?  (also they run a cafe when they aren't trying to kill the Galra)





	1. Lance

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gods this summary is bad, i think it's actually pretty cute? Idk... I tried. Unbeta'd.

“I see this life

Like a swinging vine

Swing my heart across the line

In my face is flashing signs

Seek it out and ye shall find”

 

A blue pen twirled beneath tan fingers, waiting to be used.

 

“Old, but I’m not that old

Young, but I’m not that bold

And i don't think the world is sold

Just doing what we’re told”

 

It presses against paper, quickly sketching a gun.  A sniper rifle, to be exact.  Unlike his normal sniper rifles, this one was made of ice.  There would be no trace of the Blue Paladin.

 

He continued humming as he finished, fingers carefully reaching into the paper and pulling out the ice-gun.  Grunting at the weight, he set his aim.

 

Some may call him a hero.  Others call him a villain.  Truthfully Lance was neither.  He would do anything to help his family.  So he was a mercenary… for now.

 

The shot lined up, his target right in the crosshairs.

 

He fired.

 

“ _ Fuck. _ ”

 

Lance whirled around, eyes narrowing beneath his blue mask.  A guy wearing an ungodly amount of red and black stood there, panting with flaming sword in hand.

 

“Ooh, mullethead!  Looks like I won this time, hmm?”

 

“Blue.”  The voice is barely a growl.  Lance simply blows a kiss.

 

The sword rushes towards his head.

Blue ink glows as an ice sword bursts into his hand.  Lance usually ran into Red on assassination missions, so he’d prepared.  Extensively.

 

Blue marks crawled up his arms, wrapping around his torso and dipping down lanky legs.

 

Lance quickly disengages, scowling at the drips of water running down the ice.

 

“Come now, you already failed!  We should just go out and get coffee.”  He dodges the burst of flame, drawings flashing to life.

 

“Why would I get coffee with your lanky ass?”

 

It’s hard to press a hand to his heart in mock-hurt while fighting, but he does it anyways.  “Maybe because I’m just so  _ cool _ ?”

 

He snaps ice towards Red, who groans.  “Do you have to make that joke  _ every goddamn time _ ?”

 

“Why of course, Redikins.”

 

Lance quickly jumps out of the way of the flaming sword, the fire slamming into the air where his head had just been.

 

“Oi, that could’ve hurt!”

 

“I  _ am  _ trying to kill you.”  But a half smile graces that face.

 

Gasping, Lance dramatically summons a torrent of rain.  “I thought we were bonding!” 

Fog spills from hi hands and with a cheeky grin the bodyguard can’t see, he calls out “Hasta la later, Red!”

 

Giggling at the angry shout, Blue left to collect his money.

 

⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

The hooded figure looked annoyed.  Which Lance supposed was fair enough, but still.

 

“You  _ know _ I don’t work in groups- much less groups for Altea.  It ties me down.”

 

“You wouldn’t be joining Altea, it’s a group they wish to hire.  Of the best in the mercenary classes.  This is an amazing opportunity for you!”

 

“I’m honored, but I  _ don’t join groups _ !!”  Never again.  Flashes of bars and screams-

 

“They will give you a monthly salary of a million dollars.”

 

Lance froze, a small gasp escaping his lips.  If he joined this…  _ group _ then he wouldn’t have to do a job ever again.  He would be able to smile at his family without blood staining his hands and cheeks- support them without giving up himself.  But.. he’d have to join a team.  If he wasn’t careful, he would die.

 

He grits his teeth, fists tightening.  He can feel the shortening of his breaths.   _ Not now. _

 

“...I’ll give it a shot, but don’t expect anything.”

 

The hooded figure grinned.  “Welcome to Voltron.”

 

⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

He figured it would look bad if he put blue ink all over his hands.  Powers were rare, but he could summon anything as long as he drew it in blue ink.  So, as courtesy.... He kept it contained to his chest.

 

He was fidgeting, he knew, but his fingers picked at the blue woven bracelets on his wrist.  Five, one for each sibling and then his own.

 

It was simply a cafe, this place where ‘voltron’ was supposed to meet.  He didn’t know what they were supposed to look like.

He felt strange without his blue eye-mask, and temporary blue hair.  But he was supposed to show up undisguised.

 

It made fear churn in his stomach.

 

The door chimed and he swiveled slightly, wondering if this was one of the-

 

_ Shit.   _ He’d recognize that mullet anywhere.

 

He looked different without the red disguises, but still recognizable (at least to Lance- he knew his rival like the back of his own hand).

 

He whirled back in his seat, trying to calm his pounding heart.  Red probably wouldn’t recognize him.  Right?  Yeah, he was safe as long as-

 

A thin blade slid against his neck.   _ Fuck _ .  Lance slowly lifted his hands in a placating gesture.

 

“Heya, Red.  How you doing?  Wanna finally get that coffee?”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“I could ask the same.”

 

There’s an uncomfortable silence.  “Did someone hire you to assassinate the members of Voltron before they could meet?”

 

“What?  No, how the hell do you know about Voltron?”

 

There’s no answer, and Lance carefully pries the knife from his throat.  “Please tell me you aren’t going to join Voltron.”

 

The continued silence is telling and Lance groans, swiveling in his seat.  “I knew this was a bad idea.  Why don’t I ever listen to myself?  Why does this always happen?”

 

Red just stares at him, a strange look on his face.  Apparently Lance’s glare snaps him out of it, because he slides into the booth across from Lance.  “Is anyone else here yet?”

 

Blue shrugs.  “Who knows, you’re the only sorry ass I recognize.”  Lance tilts his head, frowning at Red.  “How’d you know it was me, anyways?  I thought my disguise was adequate.”

 

“Your ‘disguise’ sucks”  Red says bluntly.  But a tinge of pink stains his cheeks as he looks to the side.  “If you really have to know, the bracelets gave you away.  So, umm, you probably on’t have to worry about most people recognizing you.... Actually, how’d you know it was me?”

 

Lace snorts, stifling his curiosity at the response.  “Dude, you don’t even try to disguise yourself.  Besides-” he leans forward, picking up a strange of black hair.  “No one else has a mullet.  IT’s the 21st century, jesus.”

 

Red slaps his hand away.  “That- it’s not a mullet!”

 

“Right.  Also, the sky is green and I’m a god.”  Pausing, he taps his lips thoughtfully. “Although I  _ am  _ a god, I suppose.”

 

“Don’t you ever shut up?”

 

“No?  When would I do that, my voice is a gift to humanity.”

 

A shout draws their attention away from each other.  “Keith!  Man, it’s been forever since I last saw you!”  A smile forms on Red’s lips (that’s new).  Shaking himself out of staring (Why was that smile so beautiful, what the hell?), Lance smirks.

 

“Oh, so Keith’s your name, is it?”

 

Violet eyes widen as they realize their mistake.  “No!  No it’s, umm… Bob?”

 

“Bob” Lance deadpans.  “That’s… sort of impressive actually.  How can you be  _ that  _ bad at lying?”

 

By now Keith’s friend has made it to their table, eyebrows raised.  “Who’s this?  Do you actually have friends?”  The man chuckles at the weak protest, Keith’s punch barely making him blink.

 

The man squints at Lance.  “Wait, is this that ‘really hot assassin’ you’re always talking about?”

 

Silence.  A three-way stare between raised brows, panicked eyes, and a smirking mouth.

 

“You think I’m hot?”

 

“No!”  The yelped refusal is immediate, and- oh gods is Red  _ blushing? _

 

Blue starts laughing, tears forming in his eyes.  “Oh man, you’ve tried to kill me like a thousand times!  But  _ this  _ is what flusters you?”

 

He grins up at the still-standing man.  “Blue, nice to meet you.”

 

The man smiles, but hesitates before reaching out to shake his hand.  “Shiro.”

 

Lance stares at the metal prosthetic, awe flooding his veins.  “Holy shit you’re the champion, aren’t you?”

 

Shiro nods, sliding in besides Keith.  “The one and only.”

 

“Dude- you’re so  _ awesome _ !”  His hands flail.  “I’m sitting at a cafe with Red and the champion, what the hell?”

 

Shiro laughs easily again.  “Are you here for Voltron, Blue?”

 

Lance’s grin shifts into a troubled frown.  “Yeah, I guess.”  Fingers subconsciously twist the woven bracelets on his left wrist.

 

He ignores the concerned looks and claps his hands.  “You guys don’t have coffee!  It’s actually pretty good here.”

 

“Okay… I know Keith’s order, want me to get yours?”

 

“Sure.  It’s filled with a lot of shots, so just tell them to get my usual order.  It’s practically my special at this point.”

 

“Okay… well I need your name.”

 

Lance freezes, eyes widening.  “Oh… right.  Umm, I’ll just keep this one then.”  He gestures weakly at the cup in front of him.

 

Keith scowls.  “If we’re going to be in a team, we need to know your name.  Besides, you know ours.”

 

“Nope, not gonna hap-”  “Tio Lance!”

 

He knows his face goes pale, he  _ knows  _ his breath shudders.

 

It will be fine.  Voltron won’t have Rolo and Nyma.  It will be  _ fine. _

 

Despite his fear, a very real smile pulls at his face as his little nephew bounces over.  “Why haven’t you come home yet?  Mama’s worried.”

 

He ruffles Ben’s hair, getting out of the seat and crouching so that he was facing the small boy.  “Aw, bud, I know you miss me but i’m working.”

 

The boy nods, seriously.  “Right, working.  Be careful, okay?”

 

The voice is soft and young, but those words betray the intelligence that pushes away the innocence he once had.  A sob hits the back of Lance’s throat, but he squishes it down.  “I’m always careful!  Now, is Sophia supposed to be watching you?”

 

A sheepish grin answers the question.  “Yeah, but I wanted to see you…”

 

“Ben!”  He shrieks, hands clapping onto those thin shoulders.  “You  _ know  _ you have to stay with Sophia, it’s dangerous!”

 

He stands, ushering Ben out the door.  He glances back at Keith and Shiro.  “I’ll be back in a minute, Ben’s run away from Sophia again.”

 

A strange look contorts Red’s face, and he swallows.  “Yeah, okay.  See ya, Lance.”

 

Wincing, but not having the heart to yell at his nephew, he walks out the door.


	2. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith was not prepared.
> 
> We find out a little more about the 'magic'.
> 
> And Voltron is created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is pacing ahaha?
> 
> Im really really sorry for taking so long, I completely forgot that I hadn't typed this up yet! The scenes are a little tumbled together though, I have like 3 chapters written but I need another 2 chapters or so of filler before we can get there and just adjfkdfjlsd.
> 
> I'll try to get them out in a more timely fashion, but I really have no idea about where this is going. Just know that I have a ton of Lance's backstory written that leads to some klance before we get down to the actual magic battles (that im terrible at writing why did i do this to myself).

 

Keith stares blankly at the door for a minute.  Then two.  Shiro claps his hand on Keith’s back, and for some reason… Keith’s eyes fill with tears.

 

“He has a family”  Keith whispers, turning to Shiro, breathing as if there was a weight pressing on his chest.  “ _ Lance _ .”  The name rolls off of his tongue and… it’s perfect, really.  “I’ve come so close to killing him.  Millimeters away, but he- he has a  _ family _ .  That’s why he’s a merc, isn’t it?”

 

Shiro sighs, leaning back.  “Yeah, probably.  Not everyone in this profession is a cold loner.  Even the Galra have family.”

 

“It-” what, it isn’t the same?  It is.  He’s a killer.  God, Keith wishes he had never seen this.  Had never witnessed warmth in those beautifully cold eyes.  Every time he saw ice he would remember that Blue- that  _ Lance  _ had a heart that could thaw.

 

_ Shit,  _ Keith knew he had a crush on Blue but this?  This was a whole new beast entirely.

 

The dramatic assassin kicked the door open before plopping into his original seat.  Shiro slides Lance’s coffee over, which is met with a muttered ‘thank you’ and a glare.

 

Keith leans forward, smirking, because he can’t let Lance (he gets thrills every time he speaks the name) see how the accidental display has affected him.

 

“So, Lance-”

 

He’s cut off by a huge groan and a head hitting the table.  “I’m going to kill Ben for this.”

 

Kill him?  Why- oh, it’s a joke.  He’s Lance right now, so he wouldnt be careful of his word choice like that.

 

He gets the feeling that Lance and Blue act slightly differently.

 

The doorbell chimes and Keith glances up at the man in the door.

 

Lance snaps his head up, grinning wildly.  “HUNK!!”

 

Keith rubs at his shattered ears while Lance flies into the man, laughing.

 

That’s when Keith sees the yellow marks all around the man’s body.

 

An Inkheart Paladin.

 

Blood pounds in his ears and he wants to yell at Lance to get away from that man, because Paladins were dangerous (he should know).  But Lance was a Paladin as well.  And how the two moved- it was obvious they knew each other.

 

The man- Hunk, was it? Lumbered over with Lance wrapped around him.

 

“Are you guys part of Voltron?”

 

“Huunnnnkkkk, you didn’t tell me you were gonna be joining!”

 

“I was told to be quiet about it.”

 

“Dude!  Not cool!  You should’ve known someone as amazing as me would be part of it.”

 

“I didn’t think you would join.”

 

Again, that dark look.  “Yeah, well, I was bribed.  And look!” He points at Keith, grinning.  “It’s Red!”

 

Hunk stares at Keith for a long second.  “This is the ‘hot bodyguard’ you’re always fighting?”

 

Lance turns crimson.  Oh, how the tables have turned.  He rose an eyebrow at the sputtering boy, taking a sip of his coffee.

 

“Yeah, he uh- uses flames and stuff. Ya know.”

 

Everyone gives Lance a blank look.  Keith would’ve teased him more but a voice interrupts them.

 

“Is this Voltron?”

 

They all turn to stare at the short person frowning at them, rimmed glasses glinting in the cafe lighting.

 

“Katie?”

 

All eyes shift to Shiro, whose face is slack.  “Is that you?”

 

They look shocked, mouth parting slightly.  “Shiro?”

 

Everyone shuffles to the side, letting Shiro sweep her in a hug.

 

“It’s been so long, how are you?”

 

“I-I’m fine!  Great, I uh, usually go by Pidge in the field though…”

 

Somehow Keith’s eyes slide from the reunited pair to Lance.  Gods, his heart really was going to die one of these days.  A warm smile tinted his lips, and the genuine joy there is- it is astounding.

 

A barista walks over to the group, beaming.  “Good, we’re all here!”

 

They all set eyes on her for a second.

 

“Are you an angel?”

 

Hunk smacks Lance on the back, sending the boy into a coughing fit.

 

“I’m sorry about Lance, you must be Allura?”

 

She nodded with a charming smile.  “Yes, I am Allura.  Please, follow me.”

 

They do, through a break room and then through another door.  She stops before a closet, opening it while pulling out a piece of paper.  With nimble fingers she peels a pink key off the paper.  Unlocking the door, she guides them inside.  Lights flicker on and she ducks down until they hit a large room.  It’s circular, with couches surrounding a small table.  Eight corridors branch off at equal intervals.

 

An impressive array of paints lay in the center of the table, and Keith hears Lance whistle.

 

“Welcome to the Castle of Lions, Voltron’s secret base.”

 

They follow Allura into a branching hall, following it to a circular room.  There’s another table, but instead of paints a hologram flickers.  Control pads lay in front of every seat (eight, again).

 

Each seat is color coded.  Allura strides over to a pink seat, sighing contentedly.

 

Hesitantly they follow her lead.  Only two seats stay open- an orange one and colorless grey one.

 

“Hello, Paladins.  You are all here today because you are part of Voltron.  We are loyal to Altea, even if they…  _ dislike  _ some of you” (Keith is positive she glares at Lance specifically) “You are all some of the top mercenaries in your field.  But there was another reason I chose all of you.  Everyone here” She pauses, threading her fingers together.  “Is an inkheart paladin.”

 

Keith sees Lance whip his head around to stare at him, eyes shining.

 

“I  _ knew it! _ ”

 

Keith rolls his eyes at the hushed whisper.

 

“Only a paladin can come here, because there is no actual copy of the key.  Coran, the orange inkheart, has developed a certain type of paper he calls a Lion.  That is why Altea has decided to fund us.  Because the lions…” A strange grin coats her face.  “Can withstand the inkforms being returned.”

 

There’s a shocked silence before Pidge speaks.  “So, if we paint on this paper, we can summon what on there at will?”

 

Allura nods.

 

“Holy shit.”  Lance’s eyes are wide.  Reverent.  “Can I- we- can?”

 

She smiles, eyes sliding over to the corridor leading back to the main room.  “I would like you to create a deck of cards, for you to keep on your person at all times.  In it keep weapons, spells, and vehicles- whatever you need.  There’s paint in the main room.  I will give you a map later, but I would like you to live here.”

 

He expects some sort of remark from Lance, but all Keith can see is joy in those ocean eyes.  He tears his gaze away.

 

He’s going to be living with Blue.  (is this a dream or a nightmare?)

 

Lance bolts out of the room, instantly easing into the blue chair in the main room.  Small cards slide into his hands, and then he’s completely absorbed in his art.

 

All inkhearts were naturally good at art, but it was still enchanting watching Lance come alive.  He’s been watching for barely a minute before a sniper rifle is in Blue’s hands.  It makes Keith tense, but he doesn’t move as it flashes back into the paper and out again.

 

Keith walks over, carefully sitting in his own chair.  Red pencils spill out before his hands, and he can’t help the soft smile spreading across his face.

 

He hears a sharp intake of breath and glance up at Lance.  Those endless eyes are staring into his.

 

“You’re beautiful when you’re drawing.”

 

The boys stare at each other for a tic before Lance yelps and furiously draws on a card, obviously taking pains to not let his gaze flick up.

 

Keith tries to get his breathing under control as the rest of Voltron settles into their seats.

The day passes in a whirl of paint and laughter.

  
  


⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

  
  


“You don’t have any long range weapons!?”

 

Keith sighs.  “No, why would I?”

 

“Wh- I have a melee weapon!”

 

“A dagger is hardly an adequate melee weapon.”

 

Lance just scowls, angrily scribbling on his hands.  There’s a flash of blue light, and then Lance is pushing a pistol into Keith’s hands.  “At least put one of these in, or throwing knives or god knows whatever else, jeez.”

 

Keith stares at the dark blue metal, oddly touched.  He sits, putting the gun down and quickly sketching the unfamiliar weapon.  Whereas the other cards in his lion (deck) are painted with beautiful hues and decorations- live flames and molten metal, the pistols are simply a sketch.  But Lance appears satisfied.  “I can’t have you dying, I’m the only one who gets to kill you.”

 

Aaand he’s back.  Huffing, Keith flicks a flame at him.  Blue shines beneath Lance’s shirt and ice arcs out to meet it.

 

Keith raises his brows and prods Lance’s shirt.  “Someone isn’t very trustful.”

 

Lance at least has the grace to look embarrassed.  “Er- no, not really.”

 

The way he speaks has Keith frowning.  It sounds like there’s a story behind that distrust, but before he can ask Allura walks in, smiling brightly at them.  “It’s getting late and most of you have finished your decks, so I will show you a quick tour of the castle.”

 

Everyone stands, Lance stretching and winking at Allura.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll give us a tour- OW WHAT THE HECK SHIRO!?”

 

Giving Lance nothing but a look of disdain, she spreads her hands.  “This is the main room, and there are eight hallways that branch off from here.  The two directly east and west lead to your rooms.  If you follow the East hallway, it will lead to the healing pods as well.  The northwest hallway leads to the lab, while the northeast hallways leads to the Living room.”  She moves her hands, pointing to each hallway in turn.  “The southwest hallway goes to the briefing room, the southeast hallway goes to the library, and the southernmost hallway guides you to the training room.  North is the stairwell to the cafe we use as cover.  We used our ink powers to create advanced facilities, so please enjoy what we have to offer while you work for us.”

 

Lance yawned, setting his pencils back on the table.  “Cool.  Which hallway is my room?”

 

“You and Keith are in the east hallway.”

 

“What!?  Why is my room by _his_?”

 

“That should be my line” Keith answers, scowling (No he’s not actually happy, what are you talking about).

 

“Puh- lease, you’re  _ lucky _ to be near the amazing Lance!”

 

“If it makes you feel better, then keep lying to yourself.”

 

“Yeah?  Well- well you’re the one always lying to yourself!”

 

Keith sends an unimpressed look.  “Sure.  Good night, Lance.”

 

He slips into his room, marked with a red colored door, without waiting for a response.  The room is spartan, grey with red accents and a strange electric blue color that seems to be a running theme in the place.  With a heavy sigh he collapses onto the bed, trying to sort through the entire day.

 

He’d finally met Blue.

 

Was he annoying?  Yes.  But something about him… drew Keith in.

  
He wondered how much of Lance was a facade and how much was the boy within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did draw a simple map, I'll try to put it up at some point. But be free to imagine the 'castle' how you will, I don't even really imagine it how I drew it so~~
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, please drop a kudos and a comment :)
> 
> As I said earlier, I'll try to get the next few chapters out quicker.
> 
> Happy New year!


	3. Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voltron tries to jump straight into battle.
> 
> Its not a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first: I am SO sorry for taking this long to update, I hit a writers block and just... sorta... meh.
> 
> BUT I've finally finished writing it, and tbh ive just sort of given up on it. I might go back and add in some scenes later to make it flow better, but I'm just. So done trying to pace myself. Klance is gonna happen too quickly and I dont even care at this point.
> 
> On another note, the Galra are way more powerful than a gang and im not even sure what this is anymore. But w h a t e v e r.
> 
> Another thing- I know that in the vld series, Keith is supposed to be better at fighting and I have Lance a little ooc here, but the idea is that his past has made him really scared of getting captured and so he has trained to use whatever he has. Hence his enhanced familiarity with magic whereas the others hide their powers more. He is the sharpshooter sniper still, but his focus in this fic is his magic and how to implement it in his fighting. He's had a long time to experiment with his power and find the little things he likes to use (like the fog). Besides we need more Lance (and Hunk but I have a hard time writing him) after s2 anyways. But more on that later.
> 
> I hope this is good enough for the wait!! I'm serious when I say the wait will be shorter this time •~•. I have 2 more chapters written and I just need a connecting chapter, and now that i've decided to screw pacing it will come out much sooner. I wanted Keith and Lance to get a little bit closer before having Lance talk about his past, but meh. 
> 
> Please Enjoy!

Lance stares up at the ceiling, sleep a far away memory.  He’s used to sleeping without the little green stars dotting the popcorn surface, but the emptiness of the room still haunts him.  It’s quiet here.  Too quiet.

 

_ Beer bottles littered the ground, a leering smile filled his vision- _

 

Shuddering, Lance sits up.

 

He didn’t think voltron would be like them, didn’t think he’d be abandoned like that.  There was Hunk at least, and from what he’d heard Shiro wouldn’t leave him either.  He couldn’t say much about the others, even if Keith gave off some sort of vibe that Lance felt himself drawn in by.  But this cool assessment using logic did nothing to ease the bile flooding his throat.

 

He had trapped himself again.

 

It was bound to happen eventually, but still.   _ Still _ .

 

A pen found its way into his hand and then he was drawing, not to summon but to calm himself.  Drawing waves always calmed him, lulling him to sleep.  But even they did not work today, not with wounds reopened and memories rushing around his brain.

 

_ How long will I be able to do this? _

 

For his family, he would do this.  For his family he would live through sleepless nights.  So that Ava could go to school and Daniel could keep dreaming, he would fight in this endless war.

 

He’d have to be even more careful of his identity then usual, because he was going to permanently side against the Galra (something he should have done years ago but it’s dangerous, way too dangerous).  He should probably cut ties altogether but… was he strong enough to do that?

 

_ Always weak, so weak. _

 

The thoughts haunted him until he fell into a fitful sleep.

  
  


#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

He had never heard an alarm clock so annoying before.

 

Groaning he rolled over, hand reaching for the bedside table- it wasn’t there?

 

His eyes shot open and he flew out of bed, mouth dropping open as the alarm panged through the room.  Throwing on some clothes, he rushes out of the room.  Taking a wild guess, he runs into the meeting room, feeling his hands shake.  He forces them into his pockets, taking deep breaths.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ is going on?”

 

He’s last, as always, but he can’t find himself caring.  Not when the alarm is so similar to the one before.  It’s not as deep or as fast, but still-  _ still. _

 

“Oh, it’s a practice alarm just in case we are ever discovered by the Galra-”

 

Lance reaches over and slams it off, feeling himself shaking.

 

_ He’s not there anymore, he’s okay. _

 

There’s too many parallels, they’re seeping into his ears and teasing his eyes.  He’s not a prisoner this time, he’s fine (if only that were true).

 

She looks alarmed at his ferocity, but when Lance’s gaze flicks over to Hunk’s his childhood friend just has a look of heartbreaking understanding.

 

Trying to recompose himself, he pulls back and tries to smile.  “Did you need us for anything else, Princess?”

 

Her eyes flicker between his and Hunk’s but she eventually nods.  “I know you haven’t had much training but there is an opportunity we cannot pass up.  A Galran leader by the name of Sendak is mobilizing, and I have reason to believe he has a Lion prototype similar to ours.  We can’t allow him to get ahold of the paper.  Your task will be eliminate him.”

 

Shiro leans forward, frowning slightly.  “When will we move out?”

 

“In an hour.  I trust your decks are ready?”

 

“I guess, but I would still like to put some ink on my skin” Pidge mutters, brows furrowed as she tries to calculate god knows what.

 

This will be the first time Lance has worked with a group in years.

 

Hunk sets a gentle hand on Lance’s back.  “Are we sure this is a good idea?  I barely know you guys, our teamwork will be terrible.”

 

Allura chews her nails for a second before nodding.  “It’s worth it.”

 

Lance closes his eyes, already planning his markings.  “Alright, I’ll be getting ready.  Just knock if you need me.”

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

Lance hisses as Keith shoots him another glance.  “ _ What? _ ”

 

“Isn’t that… a little excessive?”

 

Lance considers his appearance; tan skin absolutely  _ coated _ in blue ink.  It was no less than he usually wore, and the sight was comforting somehow.  Like… he could join a group but he would still always be himself.  Technically a lot of the marks were repeats of the Lion deck which, don't get him wrong, were  _ awesome _ but… unfamiliar.  Like a new gun, he would always prefer what was familiar until what was new became familiar.

 

Keith on the other hand hardly looked like a paladin at all.  Lance reaches over and flicks the black shirt up, but even beneath there are barely any marks (no he does not check out the muscles while he is at it, definitely not).

 

“Well unlike  _ someone _ I don’t have a death wish, so no, it isn’t.”

 

Anything so that he wouldn’t get caught again.

 

Turning, Lance scans the rest of the Paladins.  Pidge holds some sort of gizmo in their hand and has a robot on her shoulder.  Hunk has less markings then Lance but still has a fair amount.  Shiro only has a few, obviously more used to not relying on the magic.

 

“It just seems dangerous, like a crutch.”  Shiro says, inspecting Lance’s hands.  “What if it rains?”

 

“Are you kidding?  I  _ rely _ on rain, it doesn't affect my ink.  And I can do just fine without them, but…” Bars, slamming into his vision-

 

“Lance got in trouble when he didn't use enough marks once guys, so drop it.”

Confused looks paint the others faces, but their mouths close and that’s all Lance cares about.

 

Shooting a grateful glance at his best friend, Lance summons a small gun and speaks into the sudden silence.  “Well let’s get this over with.”

He misses the small peek Keith gives him, searching for answers not yet there.

 

They all pile into a car, quiet before the frenzy of battle.

 

It’s weird to be working  _ with _ Red this time, rather than fighting him.  But Lance can’t say that the feeling is wholly unwelcome- he knows Red is good at what he does.  It’s not the team’s abilities he’s afraid of.

 

Blue refits the earpiece, frowning at the unfamiliar sensation.  Allura’s voice filters through the staticky connection, turning his already downturned lips into a full wince.

 

**“Alright Paladins, be ready.  We only have one shot at this.”**

 

The caride is silent, anticipation  and nerves building on top of each other in a cocktail of fear.  It’s a relief when the car stops and they all hop out, Blue already scanning the walls for a good hiding spot.  He’s not disappointed.

 

He forgets about his team-mates, forgets about anything except his mission as the water flows around him to help him scale the buildings.  It’s simple- point, aim, fire.

 

The target is a building, some sort of hotel by the looks of it.  Sendak is due to leave through this building, and go to some sort of hq.  Allura mentioned something about a car, but something about this doesn’t seem right.  

 

When he reaches this destination he pauses to look back at the rest of Voltron.  They’re fighting, pushing through the Galra.  There’s… too many galra.  Another tug of unsettling foreboding shivers through him, but it’s not his job to worry about that.

 

“ **Are you guys sure about this?** ”

 

A small smile pulls at Lance’s lips as he hears Hunk.  He’d always had good instincts… all the more reason to keep himself on edge.

 

“ **Voltron, we cannot give this chance up.”**

 

A gun of ice melts into Lance’s hand, and the world tunnels to just him and the targets.  He isn’t considered one of the best snipers for nothing.

 

The first shot is fired, and all hell breaks loose.

 

The Galrans fall beneath the onslaught, but he’s pushing the limits of how long he can stay in this position before it’s compromised.  From here he can see the lack of synergy between the paladins.  Green was nowhere to be seen, likely in a similar position to himself, but Hunk kept almost hitting Red.  Red and Black were working decently together, but they would jump every time he felled a galra with his snipes.  It didn’t bode well as they weren’t even close to the hotel doors, from which Sendak would likely come.  They should have done this as a stealth mission- like  _ he  _ would have done.  This is an uncoordinated mess, the Galra flooding from the building as if they  _ knew _ -

 

A shield of ice is flying from his hands before he can even register the action.  He spins, thoughts dissipating and heart shuddering in fear as a Galran advances.

 

Shards of Icicles fly out but they barely slow the trained man down.

His comms spark to life again, the frenzy of overlapping voices suddenly dimming down to just Red.

 

**“Lance?  Lance, whats going on?”**

 

His curse must have come through the comm.

 

**“My name is** **_Blue_ ** **, and don’t fucking worry about it.”**

 

He grits his teeth, daggers forming as a metal fist flies towards his head.  Ducking, he tries to slash the man but his daggers slide off of purple armor.

 

Swearing, he unsummons his gun back to his cards and slashes upwards again.

 

This time he doesn’t miss.

 

He barely flinches as the blood splashes onto his face, smearing across his cheek and staining his mouth.  Spitting, he turns leaps off the roof.

 

Water flings from his fingertips, catching him as he falls.

 

Then he feels it.

 

_ Shit. _

 

Flashes dance across his vision and he grits his teeth, swinging onto another building and making his way on foot towards his next hideout.

 

But it soon becomes apparent that he won't make it that long.

 

With thin lips he reaches up and mutes the earpiece, ignoring the frantic voices, knowing this will be painful.  Ice flows down his body and tightens- bandaging the bullet wound shown by the blood blossoming on his jacket.

 

The fucker must have gotten him somehow.

 

He bunches fabric in his mouth as he screams, arms spasming even as his magic holds steady, despite the tears flowing down his face.  It isn’t the worse he’s gotten by a long shot, he’ll be fine.

 

Shaking he unmutes the comms, once again tuning in to the battle surrounding him.

 

**“Guys, they’re onto my location.  I won’t be able to hold this position much longer, you** **_have_ ** **to find Sendak and take him down.”**  Green.

 

**“I can’t spare anyone, Red and Yellow are working to push forward but until you shut down their communications we’re held down.”**

 

**“I don’t think you understand, I** **_don’t have the ti- FUCK_ ** **”**

 

He knows that tone.

He’s used it too many times himself.

 

He tries to summon his watery ropes again, hissing as the movements jostle his side.  There were many reasons why he didn’t work with other people, most stemming from his past.

But there was also an innate protectiveness within him that he had always avoided.  Because he would  _ die  _ before he let anyone else get captured, and that had only gotten stronger since…

 

One day that nature was going to get him captured again.  And he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand it.

 

He remembers Green offhandedly mentioning they’re hideout location, and speeds towards it.

He jumps in just in time.

 

Ten or so Galra have Green pinned them down, and some sort of crazy green robot tech is fighting back but they’re getting pushed back.

 

Pistols fly into Blue’s hands and he fires, knowing he only has seconds before they start to turn on him.

 

_ Trust your instinct.  _

_ Pow.  Pow.  Pow.  Pow. _

 

They’re starting to turn.

_ Bend down, decrease the target space. _

_ Pow.  Pow. _

 

_ Always keep moving, it makes them less accurate. _

 

Six targets down.  The robots started gaining the upper hand, decapacitating the Galra.  With them preoccupied, Blue rushes forward and kneels next to Green, staring at her computer scene with vague understanding.

 

“This position is compromised, we need to go.”

 

They nod, eyes flicking up and back down before their face morphs into terror and shoots back to his stomach.

 

Oh.  Right.  Darkness clouds at the edge of his vision, but he just bites his cheek.  “I scouted another hideout that might work, is this portable?”

 

“You’re  _ bleeding _ ”  She says, eyes wide.  “Fall back, we can finish it without you!”

 

Blue slowly blinks, frowning slightly.  “It’s fine, i’m used to it.”

 

Her eyes narrow and she glances back at her computer before suddenly cursing.

 

**“SHIRO!  Get out of there!”**

 

**“Ka- Green, what??”**

 

**“I just intercepted their messages, it’s a trap!  You** **_have to get out!_ ** **”**

 

Lance barely hears the last words before he’s sprinting out onto open air, ice spinning out of him as he hits the ground and joins the melee fray.

 

He always used magic as a last resort.  He had been a gunman before he had been a paladin, and magic  _ was  _ a crutch, the Champion had been right about that.  

 

But there was no denying the power in it.

 

Lance leans back to back with Keith, eyes narrowed in concentration as guns fire and shards of ice spike into the sky.  The Galra attack with even more vigor, shots flying into the air and barely being blocked by desperate shields.

 

Yellow and Black try to fight as well, but they just can’t get themselves to work together.  They start to fall back, and Lance can’t help but wonder at the position he finds himself in.  It feels natural, fighting with Red like this.  His arms move to block shots and return fire in perfect sync with the other paladin, despite never fighting with each other before.  He can recognize what he’s about to do.

 

Something borne of years of fighting each other, he supposes.

 

**“I can cover our retreat with fog.  Red, you have some explosions you can send out, right?”**

 

He can feel Keith tense behind him.

 

**“Yeah…”**

 

**“Do it.  Yellow, kick up some dust it will make the fog stronger.”**

 

Blue shines on his chest and fog starts to rise up around them.  He feels Keith’s hand snatching up his own as explosions flash across the buildings.

 

They run, adrenaline pumping through their limbs.  At least, until Lance stumbles.

 

“Blue!?”

 

Panting, his free hand tightens on his chest.  “I’m fine.”

 

“They shot you, didn’t they?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

He hears an angry curse, but Red doesn’t say anything else.

 

**“Yellow, are you clear?”**

 

**“Yes, Black and I are clear.”**

 

**“What now, Black?  Your call.”**

 

**“Regroup at the cafe.  I’ll see you all later, and we can talk about our mistakes.”**

 

**“Yeah.  I think some teambuilding would certainly benefit you as paladins.”**

 

**“Allura!  It was a trap.”**  Green’s mistrustful voice shoots into Lance’s ear, cutting off her off.

 

**“I know… I will have to be more careful with my informants, i apologize.”** Allura mutters, truly sounding sorry.

 

**“Apologizing won’t heal Lance, you know.”**

 

Keith’s voice sounds angry, which doesn’t… make sense?

 

**“I told you I’m** **_fi- fuck_ ** **”**

  
  


“Lance!”  The fog suddenly drops, and they’re far enough away so it’s fine.  Lance drops to his knees, breathing heavily.

 

Careful hands brush against his skin, and Lance slowly lifts his head to stare into Keith’s panicked eyes.  

 

The black that has been a steady vignette in his vision slowly encroaches on his view of Red.

 

Rational thought starts to leave him.  He can feel it falling away, leaving a trembling core that is terrified,  _ terrified  _ of a repetition of the past.

 

Arms are wrapping around him, and his last thought before he slips into the dark is that he has always loved the smell of campfires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Lance hasn't anyone ever told you not to run around with a hole in your side jfc kid.
> 
> Also: ooc what do u mean lel (im so sorry)


	4. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training, a small hint of Lance's backstory (thats likely poorly written sorry) and a self indulgent section of 'platonic' bed sharing ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> Oh, and of course a lovely cliffhanger before shit goes down <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT IS CONSISTENCY AHAHAHa  
> im so sorry
> 
> All the valenklance has been inspiring, so i've finally gotten the motivation to get this up. (confession time- I've had this written for like two weeks but I just did not feel like typing it up i have no excuse uwaa). I think it's a longer chapter :)  
> The next chapters should be out faster (i feel like i say this every time) because they're already written, I just need to go through them and smooth out some inconsistencies since i'm connecting parts together.
> 
> If you notice any mistakes or are confused about anything just ask I haven't had anyone else read it and ive found out the hard way that my mind connects thing in my writing that i didnt... actually... write lol
> 
> Please enjoy, once again I'm sorry for the wait!! (and if you're following any of my other fics they should be up pretty soon as well!)

He’d thought the ink was excessive.

  


It spilled down bronzed arms in a tumble of broken images.  He hadn’t realized how involved Lance was with his mafic.  It flowed out of his palms as if it had always belonged there.  By the end, almost all the marks that had crossed his form were gone.

  


There was something in the way Lance clung to his magic that spoke of unknown pasts, of dark places and the cause of those choked breaths.

  


Keith knew himself to be the one of the most solitary people in the business, and he had  _ nothing  _ on this kid.  At least he worked with people  _ sometimes. _

  


The red paladin gritted his teeth as his eyes fell upon the scar still healing on Lance’s chest.  Who gets slashed and ignores it like that!?  

He had yet to wake up.

  


Allura sets a hand on his shoulder and he jumps out of his thoughts.

  
Allura is the only of them who knows how to heal, writing strange symbols on skin and exuding a strange glow from her body.

  


“He’s going to be alright”

  


“I know, I just-”

  


Just what?

Lance is nothing to him but a smirk out of reach.

  


Hunk should be the one here, but the yellow paladin had just given Lance a weary look.  As if he had cried over this boy so much that his eyes had no more to give.

  


Which was almost the worst part of it all.

  


Something in the room changed, and it took Keith a moment to realize it was Lance’s breathing rhythm.

  


“Lance!”

  


The boy slowly blinked, sitting up.  “Keith?”

  


A blue pen twirled into Blue’s fingers and he drew something in quick strokes.  Keith’s hand snapped out and grabbed the cigarette out of Lance’s grasp.

  


“Dude, chill.”

  


“Chill!?  You almost died!!”

  


Blue actually looked surprised.  Clicking his tongue, the boy’s expression changed and he stood (swaying slightly, but he didn’t seem to take notice).  “It’s nothing new, Red.  I could count the scars just from your blades and make a very pretty penny.”

  


The words send something frigidly into his stomach.  The opposite of pooling heat- it’s rocks and hate of himself, of someone who can hurt eyes that still look at the stars as if they were the only friends they had left.

  


What can he even say?  That it’s different?

This boy is such a stark difference from the cocky sniper he knew.  As if a fire in his heart had long sputtered out.

  


He wanted to be the one to reignite it.

  


“How would you react if it was Hunk who was on this table instead?”

  


Lance’s fist slams into the wall, sudden and shaking as it pulls back to reveal a sizable dent.  “It’s different.”

  


“ _ Why!? _ ”

  


Lance turns and Keith can see unspoken answers in that blue, blue gaze.

_ Because the others are worth something. _

  


The look disappears, overtaken by an exaggeratedly cocky grin.

  


“Don’t you worry you pretty little head about it, Red.  Just let me do my thing.”

  


_ This isn’t right. _

  


“And Keith-”

  


Lance looks back one last time, something unreadable in the eyes that search for his own.

  


“Thank You.”

  


#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈  
  


“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  


Allura stares defiantly back at them.  “Does it look like I’m kidding?  That battle was atrocious!  You had no sync!  A team  _ has to move as one _ .”

  


Shiro frowns slightly at her.  “I agree, but this team is made of individual fighters that usually work alone.  You can’t expect such easy assimilation.”

  


Allura’s eyes flash.  “I’m aware.  Which is why we’re going to do these exercises.”

  


Lance hisses slightly, before scowling at Keith.  “Whatever.  Bet I can do it better than mullethead over there.”

  


“You-!”

  


The worst part was that he  _ did  _ do better.  It was a simple exercise, where you had to trust those around you.

  


Lance and Hunk moved as if they were one, and Shiro melted together with Pidge.  Soon, all four of them flowed together and only Keith was left, yelling at Lance for doing things he should’ve been able to predict.

  


But it was hard when Keith would catch a glance of Lance’s eyes, impossibly dull, as if this wasn’t him coming alive and trusting but shutting off and withholding.

  


Pidge was the first out, falling through the floor with a high pitched yelp.  Shiro was next, and then Hunk.

  


Which left the two of them.

  


Drones blazed with light when they were shot to pieces, and screeched metallically as they were slashed to bits by his sword.

  


“Bet you can’t last as long as me.”

  


“You’re on, beige paladin.”

  


“How  _ dare  _ you!  Take that back!”

  


“Take what back?”

  


“You’re not innocent, McMullet.”

  


“McMullet!?”

  


“Yea, McMull-  _ fuck. _ ”

  


A drone nearly hits Lance, but Keith is moving before he can even think of it.

  


Something clicks.  Like they were before, back to back against an army.

  


They become one.

  


#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

  


It’s better to pretend it never happened (better for his throbbing heart at least).  Arguments splash onto the floor, covering up the confused mosaic of tiles beneath.

They ignored the bond writhing between them through unspoken agreement, but it still  _ hurts  _ somehow.

  


Allura throws the exercises at them some more, but the…  _ thing _ , whatever it was, doesn’t happen again.

  


He tells himself his disappointment is from a training perspective (not because he remembers Lance’s muscles contracting against his back.  Certainly not because it felt like they were on top of the world.

  


Keith takes another swig of water and eyes Allura, who’s lugging in a suspicious looking box.

  


“Now!  Before we go more into physical training, we’ll work on connecting mentally.”

  


Keith frowns as she starts unpacking strange headsets.

  


“Allura… are you sure this is a good idea?”  Shiro asks, looking worried.

  


“Of course!”

  


Keith can’t explain why his eyes flick to Lance, expecting a smirk or gleeful grin.  The exercise  _ seemed  _ like it would be right down his alley.  But what he gets instead is the blood drained from tan cheeks, eyes blown wide and a hand spasming at his side.

  


“No.  No no nopety nope, I’m not doing this.”  His tone is light but there’s something  _ else  _ tucked within it.

  


Allura grits her teeth.  “I’ve had enough of your whining, Lance!  If Shiro can do it, so can you.  Either do this, or quit the team.”

  


“But-!” Lance squeezes his eyes shut, the fight obviously draining out of him into slumped shoulders and downcast gaze.

  


“ _ Fine. _ ”

  


They all sit in a circle, strange contraptions on their heads.  Allura flicks the switch on, and they connect.

  


“Try to clear your mind.”

  


Shiro’s mind is empty except for strange flashes of purple and- blood?

Hunk’s mind holds onto the idea of food, and the dim memory of constantly starving.

Pidge thinks of her family- of her brother.  Of plans on how to create robots and theories that will lead her to him.

Lance has only one thing running through his thoughts.

_ Bear it, for them. _

  


“Empty your minds.”

  


For Keith it’s easy enough.  It’s easier when he’s training, the repetitions and power a comforting lullaby that clears his thoughts.  But he’s spent a long time alone, and can file his mind into compartments to be accessed only in the twilight.

  


The team starts to settle, but then- the connection wobbles.  

  


_ Screams.  The ringing alarm pealing inside your head and slide of a knife down your blood slicked skin.  It hurts- it hurts so much but yet not at all, not anymore, everything is so dull but that sharp prick of the dancing knife.  Every breath is pain so you stay still, waiting for everything and nothing because no one will save you.  After all, you don’t deserve to be saved.  Your skin is screaming but it’s muted by the blood and it was agony but you continue struggling to listen. _

  


_ “You were lucky this time, but we’ll continue where we left off.  Have fun, Star-” _

  


Shattering glass yanks them out of their- good god was that a  _ memory!? _

  


Lance is shaking, barely breathing as blood pools on his glass-cut hands.  The headset is scattered into pieces beneath him, dug into the metal floor.

  


Hunk jumps up and rushes over, enveloping the boy in his arms and whispering in his ear.  The boy calms, occasionally flinching as Hunk’s hands rub his arms.  His breathing evens into an even rhythm as he turns to putty in Hunk’s hands.

  


Shiro looks sick, his prosthetic held up to his mouth.  Pidge just stares, eyes wide with terror and fingers absently itching at her skin.  It still felt like there was blood there, dirty and drying.  Meanwhile Allura looks absolutely horrified, the apologies falling off her lips brushed aside by Hunk’s  _ glare. _

  


“I’m so, so sorry I didn’t know- he’s always complaining so I thought-”

  


“Of  _ course  _ you didn't know!  You know nothing about any of us!  Can’t you tell the difference between jokes and real fear!?  I know Lance is good at hiding it but what is  _ wrong  _ with you?  We’re a group of hitmen, you think none of us have nightmares that haunt us in the silence?  What did you  _ expect? _ ”

  


She just looks lost, eyes darting from Lance to Hunk and back again, shoulders drooping into the silence.

  


It takes Keith a few furrowed minutes to identify what emotion he’s experiencing, sorting them out in the sludge of feelings welling up inside of him.

  


When he does pin it down, it feels like a revelation.  He’s…  _ angry _ .  Furious.  He wants to find whoever that was and tear them apart limb by pitiful limb.  Protective.  He wants to be the one holding Lance close, promising him he’s okay.  Sorrowful.  The story woven from such memories can’t be a good one.

  


The memory didn’t state it, but Keith can feel how young Lance was at that point.  How is he even still functioning?  Still flirting and joking and  _ fighting _ \- ‘for them’.  Lance’s… family?

  


The boy pulls back from Hunk some time later, still shaking slightly as he wipes the tears from his eyes.  A watery smile crosses his face.

  


“S-sorry guys.”

  


Shaking his head, Shiro stands.  “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  


Lance’s laugh is hollow, empty.  “I’m so fucking  _ weak _ , Shiro.  I can’t stay around you like this.”

  


“Weak?”

  


Keith doesn't mean to let the word slip, but he grits his teeth and forges on.

  


“You could kill anyone in a split second.  You’re still here, fighting, even with the memories we can’t even imagine locked inside your head.  You control your magic as if it was an extension of you- Lance, the word for you is  _ not  _ weak.  You’re anything but.”

  


Silence greets his sudden announcement.  Keith shifts uncomfortably, stuck between flabbergasted stares and nearly regretting the small amount of thoughts he pushed into the world.

  


But then there’s another choked sob, accompanied by Lance shaking his head.  “Whatever you say, Redikins.”

  


But it’s playful.  Relief crashes over him as Lance laughs, for real this time.  “So Mulletman, do you have a hard time with magic?  Is that what that was about?”

  


Waggling brows accompany the taunting in Lance’s voice and Keith groans.  He takes it back, this was a terrible idea.

  


But he understands Lance just a little more now.

  


#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

  


Keith bolts upright as the dream clings to him, clawing into his body with sweat and quickened breaths.  With a moan Keith falls back, staring at the metal ceiling.

  


He has plenty of terrible memories of his own.  A father who abandoned him, weeks spent as a Galran prisoner, life on the streets and cuts on his cheeks.  They came in nightmares and darkened dreams.  But the only thing he could see tonight was that five second stretch of memory, on loop in his brain-

  


Keith’s fist slams into the wall.  He immediately regrets it, but frustration leaks out of him all the same and Keith stares blankly around his room, knowing Lance is only a few steps away.

  


What in the hell happened to him?  Who was that man?  Was that why Lance didn’t trust people?  He wanted to know, so badly it almost physically hurt.

  


Keith loathed questions.  He drags his old blade out from beneath his pillow and stares at the strange design.

  


He hates questions.  So why is his life full of them?

  


Lance had been back to his usual cocky self by the next hour, but now Keith could see all the cracks in the facade (the very definition of fake it til you make it).  Not all of it was fake of course but… it was frightening how quickly he would turn into ‘Lance’, a carefree boy who loved beyonce and lattes.  It wasn’t Blue.  Blue had baggage, would wake up screaming into a silent room.  Would summon water from ink at the flick of his hands and snipe a man from miles away.

  


And Keith, for the life of him, can’t stop himself from falling in love with both.

  


There’s a quit tap on his door, so soft Keith almost thinks he’s imagined it.

  


“Keith?”

  


He’s up in a flash, tugging the door open.  Lance stands outside the door, weariness in his eyes and hair sticking up like he is some sort of stray dog.  On another day, another time, it might’ve made him laugh.

  


Lance seems to relax at the sight of him, a strange emotion in those fathomless eyes that Keith only ever sees in the dark of night.

  


“Are you okay?”  Lance continues at the sight of Keith’s bewildered look.  “You were screaming...”

  


“Oh, no I’m fine I was just-”  _ dreaming about you. _  “Umm…”

  


They lapse into silence for a sold minute.

  


“Well, night?”

  


A sort of panic flashes through Lance’s face, and his arm snaps forward before it’s snatched just as quickly back.

  


“S-sorry, but I can I come in?”

  


Keith studies Lance’s face in the dim lighting, watching the shadows on his beautiful face.

  


He steps back with a single fluid movement, holding the door wider and watching as Lance lets out a puff of relief before slipping in.

  


_ You have a crush on the guy you are in a dark room with, all alone, who could probably kill you without even thinking of it... if he wanted.  Oh Quiznak. _

  


Lance flops onto the floor, tugging a blanket on his shoulders as he lays down.

  


_ Don’t do it _ .

  


“Umm… you’re sleeping on the floor?”

  


_ Don’t Do It! _

  


“Where else would I go?”

  


Keith swallows, looking down and biting his lip.  “On the bed?”

  


_ WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? _

  


Lance slowly blinks before a sly smile pulls his lips.  “Aww Redikins, trying to get me in your bed already?”

  


He  _ knows _ his cheeks are flaming.

  


“Fuck you, Blue.”

  


“Oh so  _ that’s  _ the plan?”

  


Lance just laughs at whatever expression Keith must have on his face before his smirk fades back to that rare smile.  “Really though, you wouldn’t mind?  You don’t seem to like touching people.”

“Oh!”  His voice cracks.  Goddamit.  “N-no, it’s fine.”

  


  1. _ITS. NOT. YOU._ ** _IDIOT._**



  


Lance hums before he crawls onto the bed, and despite the situation all he can imagine is this same scene with a  _ very different scenario. _

  


_ Stop it! _

  


Keith kicks his shoes off and slips in carefully next to Lance, barely able to breathe.  Lance has taken the spot by the wall and curls up as tightly as he can.

  


Keith’s impulses are truly going to kill him at some point.

  


He freezes with his arms wrapped around Lance, self indulgence at its peak.  But Lance doesn’t pull away, or ask him what the  _ fuck  _ he’s doing.  Hell, that would’ve been easier.

  


No, Lance snuggled in  _ closer. _

  


He was gonna die.  Here lies Keith Kogane, death by Blue.

  


(If aliens had listened in, they may have noticed the same exact thoughts in Lance’s flustered mind).

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

  


“As adorable as you both are, Allura’s going to kill you if you don’t get up now.”

  


He’s warm, and not even Pidge’s annoyed voice can get him up right now.  He curls tighter around the warm body next to him, evening their breaths and breathing in deep.  It smelled of beaches and flowers, like a garden standing in salty spray.

  


“I  _ mean it.   _ Get up, you pair of sleepyheads!”

  


... _ pair? _

  


Keiths eyes slowly open, trying to understand how he hadn’t had a single nightmare since falling asleep.

He gets his answer in a set of terrified ocean eyes.

  


“AH!”

  


Keith leaps out of the bed, thoughts in his head a steady mass of ‘ _ fuck oh fuck he was close ohhh holy fuck. _ ’

  


“Sleep well?”

  


Neither of the flustered paladins bother with the cutesy innocence Pidge adds to her voice.

  


“ **_Get out!_ ** ”

  


She laughs, shouting out on last thing as she skips out the door.

  


“Have fun!  Be safe!”

  


Then the door was shut and there he stood, in red boxers and a black t-shirt, not quite able to regret the instincts taken of his name.

  


“She totally took pictures didn’t she?”

  


“Probably.”

  


“ _ Damn it. _ ”

  


Lance slides off of the bed in a strange rolling motion, falling to the floor on his knees before fluidly standing up with a yawn.  Lance looks back at Keith curiously, likely noting that he hasn’t moved an inch.

  


“Come on, we’re gonna be late.  Later?  Latest?  Latalicious??”

  


Is he… just going to ignore it?  Or was there ever anything there at all?

  


Lance pauses in his flight on the threshold to the room, not turning as mumbled words spill from his mouth.

  


“Umm… Thank you.  That was probably the best nights sleep I’ve had in awhile, so… yeah, thanks.”

  


By the time Keith has his voice again, Lance is gone.

  
  
  
  


After getting dressed and running to the meeting room, Keith finds out it’s twelve thirty, as in past noon.   _ TWELVE FUCKING THIRTY.   _ What the hell?  He had a hard time sleeping past five on a  _ good _ day.

Lance looks just as surprised as him.

  


Allura claps her hands and starts her announcement now that all the paladins are there.  “So!  The last mission went quite badly, and while you’ve started to bond as a team I thought it would be a good idea to bring a duo pair of communications specialists!”

  


Lance freezes at this.  “More people!?”

  


Allura frowns.  “Yes, Lance.  But don’t worry, you can trust Rolo and Nyma.”

  


Hunk whips his head up and gasps, widening eyes the only warning milliseconds before the room  _ freezes. _

  


“What?”

  


“Rolo… and Nyma?”

  


There’s a pause.  A breath, a heartbeat.  The doors open and two people step in, who Keith can only assume are Rolo and Nyma.  The heat in the room raises as Keith uses spells from his deck in attempts to calm Lance down, but they are swept away by ice.

  


Lance starts to back away, water forming around his hands and Nyma just clasps her hands to her heart in shock.

  


“ _ Starboy _ ?”

  


Pure  _ fear  _ flashes in Lance’s eyes.  Allura’s eyes widen, and her hand stretches out- but it’s too late.

  
Lance is already gone, running,  _ sprinting _ for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so proud of myself for actually creating an outline but i did it during class and then... i lost it... so no outline now WE WRITE WITH NO PLANS (no really I've pretty much written all i've planned out heLP)
> 
> While I'm thinking of it- the first half will focus mainly on klance and character development, while the second half of the story will be actual action and... ya know... plot... magic... training and crap. But as a writer I really need to work on fleshing out my characters so that will be a main focus of this fic (i have to pretend to be productive somehow)  
> As i mentioned earlier the next 2 chapters or so should be up fairly soon- even if im starting another multi fic because apparently i hate myself (I CANT EVEN GET THE ONES IM ALREADY DOING OUT AT DECENT INTERVALS WHAT IS LIFE).   
> So yeah, hope you enjoyed! Please kudos and comment because i cling to them like the sorry fish I am- and hmu at my klance sideblog http://klance-is-now-my-life-force.tumblr.com/ I love theory and I need people to talk to about it my friends are avoiding voltron out of spite (i need new friends lol). Happy Valentines day!


	5. Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance explains some of his past, and there's some bonding(tm) that neither boy will be forgetting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse. Really. I'm so sorry why do I even try to set goals lmao.  
> I am... so disappointed in this chapter tbh. I feel like I could have portrayed everything so much better but I want to get this out there and there's not really much I can do considering that I already wrote the next chapter... I would've like to expand on it, but i have an easier time writing Keith (I think?) and that's probably one of the reasons why it cuts off so quickly. I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner as comp but... we all know how well thats worked before soo ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Back to our irregularly scheduled klance~

No.  No, no no n o no.

 

It can’t be happening.

 

He slams open the door, adrenaline tingling in his veins.  Not again- he can’t go through that again.

 

He should’ve known Voltron was too good to be true.  He should’ve  _ realized _ .

 

Memories boil in his mind.   _ NO. _

 

He’s slamming out of the cafe, into the dark street.  Where can he go?

 

“LANCE!”

 

_ Fuck. _

 

Blue flashes over the paved street.  He’s usually so careful about showing his powers in public, but his thoughts are a steady stream of panic.

 

He leaps onto the motorcycle, flooring it.  He hears a curse, and then the sounds of a another bike chasing him.

 

Where’s he going to go?

 

Anywhere,  _ anywhere. _

 

The ocean.  He has a pen- he’ll draw a submarine.  Something.  Lights race past him, and he’s almost there.  Leaping off the motorcycle and unsummoning it, he makes for the waters edge.

 

He doesn’t get there.

 

“Lance!”  Hands grip his shoulders, pulling him, trapping him-

 

He jerks away, staring at- Fucking  _ Keith _ .  He can’t kill him and run.

 

“Lance,  _ calm down.   _ It’s okay- no one else followed you here.  You’re safe.”

 

_ Safe.    _ A word he’d never associated with the color red before, but now?   _ Safe _ .

 

His eyes trace Keith’s form, from the strangely soft black mullet to the annoyingly muscular arms, then back up to those beautifully violet eyes.

 

_ Safe. _

 

Water spills around his feet as he takes a hesitant step forward, then another- almost touching the other boy, hovering just out of distance and breathing in the smoky smell of campfires and metal, mixed with the unmistakable smell of old paint.

 

_ Safe. _

 

He needs something to ground him, to keep him from drifting away so- so he wraps his arms around the body, tucking his face into Keith’s shoulder.  It’s warm, reaching through his body to the cold and panicked heart inside.

 

_ Safe.  Keith is… Keith is safe. _

 

His arms squeeze tighter, as if Keith might disappear.  Just like everyone else in his life.  The water laps the sandy shores around him but all he can think of is fire.

Then the sobs start, and he can’t stop even as they shake him.  

 

They stand like that for awhile, two bright lights among the stars.

 

Eventually Lance steps back, wiping at his eyes and shuddering.  Cold instantly surrounds him like an old friend, but he’s fine.  Pulled back into himself.  Even if he misses the touch (for the first time since his peeling skin).

 

The words start to spill out of him before he can ponder who he’s talking to- his rival in every way.  The man he’s somehow found himself in love with, against all odds.  The guy who makes him feel safe in a world of steel and strife.  The person who is warmth and campfires.

 

“I was twelve when I started to search for a way to save my family.  I’m the middle child of seven, so I figured if I made a mistake… well I wouldn’t be missed.  I solo’d for a while, wouldn’t tell anyone what I was doing.  Somewhere along the way I acquired a gun.  Gods.  I loved that thing.  It was old and worn, but I loved it.  Even as it spilled blood all over my innocent hands until they were so coated in the sticky red that it would be impossible to ever completely clean.  By thirteen I had a decent reputation, ya know?  I could blend into a crowd easily, and I was a good shot.”

 

He ignores Keith when the boy opens his mouth to say something, electing instead to sit down and wrap cold arms around his folded legs.  He tilts his head so that his eyes are pressed against his knees, and keeps talking, needing to let it out before it tears him up inside (wouldn’t it destroy him anyways?).

 

“About then is when I met Nyma and Rolo.  I flirted even then as some sort of shitty defense mechanism, so we actually met with a fist to my face.  After that though, they offered to work with me.  We were a great team- they were clever and played dirty.  I liked that about them, how they would stoop as low as they wanted to get the job done.  I never had the courage to do that, didn’t realize until later that it was some remnant of morality in my shredded heart.  Most importantly though, they made money.  I should’ve known they'd have an ulterior motive, would sometime turn those dirty ways onto me, but… I was a  _ child _ .  I guess they were too.

 

“See, they’d gotten in a bit of trouble.  Needed some extra money.  So… they sold me out.”

 

He hears Keith’s sharp intake of breath, but doesn’t look up.  Even when he feels a weight shift next to him on the sand, he doesn’t dare look up.  If he does, he might stop with the words caught in his throat, choking him.

 

“The gang they sold me out to doesn’t exist anymore.  I- they threw me into a cell and treated me like a dog.  T- told me about what they were doing to my family.  It turned out to be lies, but I hadn’t known.  They liked to whip me daily, and slowly I lost myself to my screams.”

 

A hand is pressed against his shoulder, squeezing almost painfully tight.  Almost as if the owner needs reassurance that Lance was truly alive, was truly there.

 

“That memory you guys saw, that was one of the worst.  But most days were some variation of that, and I was just- broken, really.  I didn’t have anything to cling to, except the echo of a family i believed to be dead.

 

“One day a pen rolled into my cell.  I wonder if it was intentional sometimes, or if it was just twisting fate.  It took me about a week to figure out I was an inkheart.  When I finally drew the only thing my shattered mind dared remembered- a little blue stone my older brother gave me when I was younger.  He told me it was magic, and that if I whispered my dreams to the pretty little surface they would come true.  I just wanted something of his again.  The lines were wonky and didn’t actually resemble the stone at all, but when I pulled it out of my thin wrist I recognized what I was.  It seemed easy to draw the familiar gun after that.

 

“I escaped, destroying the gang and enjoying every drop of blood I spilled on their alcohol strewn floors.  As soon as I could, I spread the rumors to ensure my old alias, Starboy, was dead.  So that Nyma and Rolo wouldn’t know, because I was sure they would chase me down if they knew I was alive.  My mom, she wouldn’t stop crying when I came back.  She thought I was dead, and had been for months.  Hell, I  _ was  _ dead, and it took a long time before I could become Lance again.  Even now it feels wrong sometimes, too tight and too happy, like a false coating covering the rotten killer inside…”

 

Lance felt his voice drop off, and trembling, pushed himself to start again.  “I became Blue.  But Blue wasn’t the same as Starboy.  Blue always wore a disguise, and would always keep in the shadows.  Starboy would work with others, would get up close to the enemy before firing the death shots.  Sometimes even bearing a message.  But Blue was a lone sniper- a pure assassin.  Would never reveal his identity, and fight with nothing to lose.  Severed nearly all connections, and kept the ones he did have to a minimum.  And… Starboy was optimistic.  Would look up and see the brightness in the stars, would dream of a time when he could jump up and touch them…”

 

Keith barely breathes, chest moving shallowly as if not to disturb the air of the sea.  Lance carefully, carefully tilts his head back and stares up at the glimmering sky, at the glowing moon.

 

“Voltron is the first time I’ve tried to work with anyone since.  And of course, there they fucking are.

 

“I found out later that my death had been their goal all along.  Something about me being too much of a threat.  They tried to team up with Blue as well, and I almost killed them for it.

 

“I used to be a people person, you know?  Trusting and open, always helping others and doing all I could to save them even if it meant killing another.  I would only take ‘righteous’ jobs.  But now I never get close to anyone.  Even as just Lance, I have a hard time being anything other than the comedic guy in the room who’s shallowly friends with everyone.  The only reason I even let myself get close to Hunk is because I’d known him since we were kids, and because he has such a pure heart- I ended up dragging him into this business when I disappeared.  I don’t deserve him.  He tried to warn me about them ya know, told me they would turn on me, said he could sense it around them.”

 

_ I don’t deserve anyone. _

 

“I’m not sure how much longer i’ll be able to do this- to be in voltron.  Especially if they are there, I can’t-”  His voice finally cuts out and he doesn’t try to speak again.  His throat is dry, all his secrets bleeding out on the sand, all laid out for Keith to see.

 

He expects him to leave, to stare at him with disgust for what he’s done and what he will do, at how broken he truly is inside and how he doesn’t even care because his family is safe now, living in a nice house and they don’t have to worry about getting attacked in the dead of night unless someone finds out Blue is connected to them.

 

That’s not what Keith does.

 

“But… you trust me?”

 

It’s a simple question, but something about it hits Lance hard.  He’s silent for a long time before answering.

 

“Yeah, I do.  I don’t know why, and I shouldn’t.  Maybe I feel like I know you from our battles, maybe it’s just a feeling I have.  Maybe in some past universe we’re space ranger partners or some shit, I don’t know.  It’s been awhile since I’ve felt anything like this.  But I trust you.”

 

Keith falls silent, and Lance wonders if it was too much.  But then Keith stands and holds out a hand that Lance takes, feeling the boy pull him up.

 

“I’ll protect you.  I will  _ never  _ let you get captured, okay?  I swear it.  I won’t abandon you like that.  Maybe I would have before, but even if I wanted to I can't now.   Not anymore.”

 

Lance nods, feeling something ease in his chest as his heart swells.  For some reason, his wary soul loved this boy.  So he would trust him.

 

“Okay.”

 

And unspoken between them was the heavy thank you surrounding them in the silence.

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

“Starboy!  Dude, Nyma and I thought you died!  How’s life treating you?”

 

The use of his old alias made him flinch, but a warm hand squeezed his shoulder.  Steadying his breathing, he spoke.  “Great, no thanks to you.  My name’s Blue now.”

 

Rolo chuckles, waving his hand in a flippant motion.  “It’s a kill or be killed world out there.  You don’t mind, do you?  Water behind the bridge and all that.”

 

Yes, he minded.  He minded alot, thank you very much.

 

“Nah man, it’s cool.  You just brought back some… old”  _ and unwelcome _ “memories. ”

 

He still has memories of those days, of the bars and smell of drunken breath.  The feel of a whip tracing lines in his back.  That cursed scene of nearly being skinned alive, the one he accidentally pushed onto the others.

 

Rolo looks past Lance and smiles at Keith.

 

Lance forces himself to ignore the spike of jealousy as Keith removes his hand from Lance’s shoulder.

 

“You must be Red!  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Lance can’t help the curious glance he shoots back as Rolo’s hand, held out and awaiting a shake falls limp.  Holy shit… that was pure  _ hate  _ in those violet eyes.

 

“Yeah,  _ nice _ to meet you.”

 

Lance feels chills roll down his spine at the tone, but Rolo just frowns a bit.  Nyma simply smiles, sickly sweet.  “Well now that we’ve met the whole group, we should be off.  Keep in touch,  _ Starboy. _ ”

 

Oh, she was not happy that he was alive.  Lance was never more glad that he had not introduced her to his family than he was in that moment.

 

They left and Lance felt his bravado collapse, leaving him empty and cold.  Rubbing his eyes, he groans as he hears Allura’s footsteps.

 

She appears from a hallway, grimacing but with unspeakable sorrow in her eyes.  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you had bad connections with them.  Hunk didn’t tell me much, but he said they’re the reason you’re a lon-”

 

“It’s  _ fine. _ ”  Okay, that came out sharper than he intended.  He drops his hands from his eyes and takes a deep breath before trying to force a smile.  “I’m just tired.”

 

“Oh… of course.”  She looks uncertain, but Lance ignores her and turns to go to his room.

 

He pushes aside the slight fluttering of his stomach when he realizes the Keith is following him.

 

The walk to his room is short, and he spends it arguing with Keith, just loud enough so that Allura can hear.

 

“My room is cooler than yours.”

 

“Wha- no it isn’t, they’re the exact same.”

 

“But mines  _ blue _ , red is an ugly color.”

 

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

 

“It’s not  _ my  _ fault you’re too dumb to understand the thought processes of Blue Sanchez.”

 

“I’m surprised you even know what a thought process is- wait is that your last name?”

 

“Pfft, no.  Who uses their real last name in a pseudonym?”  

It’s almost easy to fall back into that arguing rhythm, but the heat it always had before is gone.  There’s an undercurrent of emotions, all in a tangled mess around them but the banter is comfortingly familiar.

 

Keith gives him an unimpressed look as they arrive at the rooms.

 

Turning, Lance tries to slide into his room but he’s stopped by a hand tugging his jacket sleeve.  He stops, not daring to swivel his head back around.

 

Keith’s voice is lowered, soft and the sound of it does funny things to his heart.  “I, umm… I’m bad at this, but if you ever need anything… don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

 

Lance feels a small smile, and just nods.

 

“Sure.  Same for you, bonito.”

 

Then the door is between them and despite the reassurance he feels Keith’s absence crash into him like a wave.  Tears start to spill down his cheeks and he slides down the wall, struggling to control his breathing.

 

He’s fine.  He’s fine, he’s fine. (The screams are echoing in his head) He’s not in a cell, he’s alone and they can’t hurt him from the grave (but they can, they are now), He’s alone (so lonely, so distanced) he’s  _ fine _ .

 

Eventually his panicked breathing sinks into the slow rhythm of sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonito is supposed to mean beautiful, which doesn't really work but hey whatever i thought it flowed the best. I don't know Spanish, i've never taken Spanish, and any Spanish I know has been picked up from klance fanfiction because i am complete and utter trash so if I ever mess it up at some point (and i won't be using actual Spanish very often, just signs of him speaking in it like underlines and such) just shoot me a message. Also if I mess up anything else because no matter how many times i proofread this i always end up missing something DX.
> 
> As always, hmu at http://klance-is-now-my-life-force.tumblr.com/ (still don't know how to link lmao). Scream to me about klance, or ask me about the mechanics of this world because i really need help flushing out (I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING COULD YOU TELL!?). If you give me a good prompt I will legit love you so don't hesitate to reach out.
> 
> So yeah. Hope you liked it. The anticlimatic reveal of Lance's backstory (it'll show up again ofc but we'll roll, we'll roll). Gear up for Keith's take on everything next chapter :)  
> {obviously i cant make time frames but I think i have this chapter written already so it should be up... soonish... relatively... yeah don't get your hopes up but its coming eventually}


	6. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of Shovels and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry
> 
> I've just been swamped with homework and i guess my mental state has been sort of funky, I just didn't feel like writing. But i'm on spring break right now so this should (should!) get some more updates, and i'm probably gonna be starting a new multi-fic in canonverse so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> Anyways, I originally felt like this chapter was a bit empty but I don't really know what else to put in it, and I wrote it a long time ago... welp. This chapter is probably going to end Lance's background arc and either start some of the other paladins since i really need to fill them in or go towards the action part of the story... im not sure yet. Just take this trash out of my hands lmao
> 
> ALSO: because I don't know spanish, anything spoken in spanish is bolded and underlined, just a heads up.

 

 

Keith tries to push away his anger, shivering as he stands just in front of his doorway.  The red seems to taunt him, daring him to go out and find that bitch right now and cut her up so she could feel even a portion of the pain Lance had-

 

His fists are clenched again.  He slowly unfurls them, glaring at the half crescent moon marks dug into his skin.  He’d wanted to keep his hand on Lance, able to tell how hard it was for those blue eyes to stand tall and confident.  However if he had, he would’ve accidentally crushed Lance’s shoulder.  Nyma’s fake smile and Rolo’s assurances… he’d  _ had  _ to ball his hands into fists to avoid punching them.

 

He had no claim on Lance other than as some sort of accidental team mate.  It didn’t stop the jealousy, the…  _ possessiveness _ from nearly overwhelming him.  Feelings stir in his gut, and he has to push them down.  These are feelings he’d never be able to act upon, even as they grew into a roaring fire.

 

But what Rolo and Nyma had done to him… Lance hadn’t divulged many details, but he remembers hearing stories of Starboy in the grapevine.  Of how he’d shattered like a supernova, drowning the gang to drag them down with him.  He had  _ completely _ destroyed that gang, and knowing him now, the distrust always glimmering behind those oceanic eyes… it must’ve been truly bad.

 

And he’d once thought the Blue assassin as a shallow boy who didn’t know pain.

 

Keith needs to move.  Needs to train, needs to hit something…

 

He walks out of his room just minutes after entering it, feelings boiling over uncontrollably.  His lion deck is in a bag clipped to his belt.  He heads back to the center, frowning at the empty hallways.

 

If Allura peeks her head into the training room later and sees the flames licking the ceiling around a boy glowing red with rage, she doesn’t say anything.

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

Keith doesn’t need much sleep, but he many have trained for a little too long (just a little).

 

He stifles another yawn. They are sitting in the cafe (now empty), trying to wake up with coffee and pastries.  It was working better on some of them than others.

 

He tried not to notice how tired Lance looked.  At least he succeeded in forcing his hand to stay in his lap when he itched to gently run his fingers over the bags beneath the blue eyes.

 

“I’m glad you’ve all settled.  Today I was going to have you finish moving in.  Our first debriefing is tomorrow- we need to start working on our codes and magic as a team.  We have our first planned mission before the end of the month.”

 

They all nod, somewhat glad she’s now  ignoring the mess of a mission they had before. 

 

She places a map in front of them, attracting five sets of curious eyes.  “This is a map of the hideout- familiarize yourself with it.  Also, this is my key.”  She places a card on top of the growing pile.  “Copy it onto some lion paper.  And lastly-”  She leans forward, eyes narrowing.  “From now on, you never go outside alone.”

 

Protests shoot from five lips and she holds up a hand.  “I have my reasons.  Shiro, you’re with me.  Hunk, you’ll accompany Pidge.  And Keith, you are with Lance.  Try to get along, alright?”

 

Cold shoots down his back.  Oh no.  No, nope!  He was having a hard enough time without them being leashed together!

 

“I have to see my family today!  I can't bring my  _ rival _ into my home!  Hunk’s already met them, can’t I bring him?”

 

“This.  Is.  Final.”  She glares, daring them to protest.

 

Blue eyes flick to his, and Keith almost chokes as he sees the fear held there.  But they hold his gaze, and seem to relax.

 

_ I trust you. _

 

Lance was going to bring someone who could very easily kill his whole family if they ever disbanded voltron  _ straight to them. _  Keith knew Lance would usually have disagreed, but the words from yesterday echo in his mind.

 

He meant every word.  He would  _ never  _ betray this boy.

 

“Fine.”  Lance stands, grabbing the edge of Keith’s jacket.  “Come on, Mullet boy.”

 

Keith scowls at the name.  “Are you going to summon a motorcycle in broad daylight again?”

 

“I was panicking!  I’m entitled to a panic summon.”

 

Keith doesn’t miss the slight dimming of Lance’s voice.   _ Shit _ , he’d said the wrong thing.  How many times would he have to put his foot in his mouth before his cotton tongue and glowing temper were satisfied?

 

A blue pen flips into Lance’s hand, ink quickly forming- a car flares into existence.  Is that a mustang?  Keith glares at the obvious display ( _ again _ , panicking his ass), but a quick glance around shows no one watching.

 

“This is what you picked?  Of all things-”

 

“What would  _ you _ have chosen, Redikins?”

 

He’s not blushing at the familiar name.  The sun was just… shining harder.

 

“Something better.  This sets a low bar, after all.”  Keith climbs into the passenger seat, slightly worried about Lance driving.

 

And rightly so.

 

Twenty minutes later has him scrambling out of the car, face slightly green, glad they’ve finally arrived.  Not even to mention his ears- if he hears Beyonce one more time he might scream.  Lance climbs out as well, snapping his fingers and watching it fade into a blue goop.

 

“C’mon, I guess you get to meet my family.”

 

The people Lance had sacrificed everything for.  Keith frowned at the place.  It was large, but run-down.  Random splashes of blue boards were tacked to the walls, obviously made by ink.  A cracked picket fence wrapped around the yard, in which stood a large tree.  A bright blue treehouse stood out amongst the leaves, along with a swaying tire swing and fraying rope.

 

“Mami!!  **I’m home!** ”

 

“Lance?   **You foolish boy, where have you been? ”**

 

Keith stares blankly at the door while Lance pushes it open… grinning?  It was an open expression he had never seen before … something about it made his heart ache.

 

The sounds of tiny feet thunder into view.  “TIO LANCE!!”

 

The kid from before, Ben, launches himself into Lance’s arms.  He laughs, swinging the boy around.  Two other kids appear from around a corner, simply watching with huge smiles on their faces.  One looks about eleven, the other about nine.

 

“Lance, who’s that?”

 

The speaker is another woman who descends down rickety stairs.  Her lips are pulled into a frown, tightly pinched.

 

“Ah, sis!”  Lance turned with a smile, but faltered when he saw her face.  He followed her stare back to Keith, as if remembering he was there.

 

“...Is this boy you're boyfriend?”

 

Keith felt his mortification rising as a blush in his cheeks but it was nothing compared to the flames flooding Lance’s face.  Spanish started rolling from his tongue, and Keith felt the words wash over him.  He didn’t understand a word.

 

“ **Sis!  You can’t just say shit like that!”**

 

**“So he is?”**

 

**“No, he’s not!”**

 

**“Sooooo you want him to be?”**

 

**“Sis!  Oh my god!”**

 

The woman chuckles, a smile finally warming her face.  It’s so different from the frost earlier that it makes Keith’s head spin.

 

“I apologize, it’s just been awhile since my brother brought someone new home.”

 

Lance scowls.  “Because everyone I talk to is dangerous.”

 

A new voice, one made of honey and warm mornings softly appears.

“And this one isn’t?”

 

“MAMI!”  Lance lunges forward, wrapping her in a  hug.  “I’m sorry for not coming sooner, i’ve been busy with a new job.”  He pulls back slightly.  “This is a… friend of mine from work.”

 

Warmth bubbles in his chest at the use of the word ‘friend’, but Lance’s mom pulls back.  

 

“From… work?”

 

“Yeah, this is Red.”

 

Her eyes widen and she jerks back further, glaring at him.  “And you brought him into our home!?   **Stupid boy!** ”

 

Apparently he’s known.

 

“No no, he’s my team-mate now.  He’s safe.”

 

A silence falls over the room.  He can practically feel their minds whirring.

 

“Team… mate?”

 

Lance nods, awkwardly punching Keith on the shoulder.

 

A small hand tugs on his pants leg.  Ben looks up at Keith, eyes wide,

 

“You must be really special, because Tio Lance doesn’t team with anyone.”

 

This kid was going to make him cry for the second time in the span of a week.

 

“Yeah, Ben.”  Something in Keith’s chest seizes as that fond look of Lance’s is turned onto him.  “He is.”

  
  


#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

  
  


The eleven year old, Sophie, informs Keith that Lance usually comes home every other Sunday, but missed it last time. 

 

The nine year old, Pip, takes a picture of him with an old polaroid camera and silently walks off.

 

Jack, who is fifteen, just winks at him and makes crude gestures with his hands.

 

Adria, Lance’s older sister and a twenty year old, tells him that if he hurts Lance she will cut off his balls and cram them down his throat.  He doesn’t doubt it.

 

Siobhan was Lance’s oldest sister and the mother of Ben and Ava, two twins.  She simply looked Keith in the dead in the eyes and told him to never let Lance go.

 

Diego was Siobhan’s husband, and he asked Keith to come model for him sometime since he needed new inspiration for his art.

 

Samuel, the oldest, warily informed him that he was a police officer, and to be careful with the situations he got into.  The glint in his eye was one of disapproval paired with grudging respect.

 

Noah, Samuel’s husband, told him a story of when Lance was a little kid and stapled his lip, and how his adopted son had since done the exact same thing.

 

Lance’s mother, apparently named Rosa, welcomed him warmly by making strange comments about his appearance that made Keith turn various shades of pink.

 

Lance’s father, Sean, just sat cleaning a gun with a pleasant smile on his face.

 

And Lance?

 

“Don’t you dare hurt them.”

 

And Keith meant every word as he whispered “I would never.”

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

“Why the fuck are you bringing so much stuff back?”

 

“You should be proud- it means I’m staying.  I don’t usually have a permanent place to stay, so everything just sort of piles up here.”

 

Keith stops, setting the box down in the back seat.

 

“Why?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Why are you staying?  It obviously puts you on edge.”

 

“The money’s good.”

 

“ _ Lance. _ ”

 

The boy stops as well, staring at Keith.

 

“Does it matter?  You don’t need to care.”

 

Keith doesn’t let himself think, instinctively stretching to grab Lance’s sleeves.  Everything today was too much, he saw too much of the soft side of Lance.  Too much of the boy who used to dream of the stars.  Too much of the boy who swore to protect his family with every last breath.

 

“But I do.  I  _ do  _ care, so please.  Tell me why.”

 

He doesn’t expect the hug.  The arms wrapping around him or the nose burying in his hair, position so familiar to the way it was just a few days ago.  He doesn’t expect the feelings that throb through him.

 

_ I feel safe. _

 

“Because I’m tired of being lonely.  Because I’ve finally found some people I can trust.  Because if I do this, I can give my family the money and finally disappear.  Because I trust enough people in this group to catch me if I fall.  I don’t know.  It just… feels right.”  The arms tighten, squeezing.  “Maybe… it’s because of you.”

 

It’s barely a whisper, a breath in his ear, but he hears it.

 

Something spools in his gut, leaving him gasping for air.

 

Lance pulls back, face morphing into a cheesy smile.  “Let’s go!  Do you want to pick anything up?”

 

“No.  I’ve never really… stocked up on anything like you have.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

The car (red, this time) starts to the castle with Keith at the wheel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it wasn't too bad ^-^  
> *logically knows it isn't that short* *but it feels super short what even*
> 
> If you have questions or prompts (cuz i think im gonna start taking those to try to get back into my creative spirit) hmu [here](http://klance-is-now-my-life-force.tumblr.com/) :)))


	7. Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic, Angst I accidentally added in because it wasn't long enough, and bayards I also accidentally added in on a whim.  
> Plus scattered friendship and Klance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY  
> I SAY THIS EVERY TIME BUT I AM SO UNBELIEVABLY SORRY
> 
> asdfjkldfj
> 
> My mental state just completely crashed and then i was swamped with homework and writers block decided to be a jerk and this fic just completely disappeared from my mind. I will not abandon this, especially now that I finally got the next few chapters sorta planned out, but the timetable is so screwed up and the chapters are so short im just... such a mess lmao. I'll probably wrap this up sooner than I originally planned (ish, i didn't really plan much), simply because I have other things I wish to write at this point but I'll try to make it a good story at least. Good news is that I think I have some of the backgrounds for the other paladins, but the main focus is ofc both keith and lance.
> 
> Just a warning- it's probably going to be a little odd, because my writing style is constantly changing and because i took a long break from writing it the result is going to be a little off (Lance's characterization completely threw me, and then I had a minor panic when i couldn't figure out what tense it was supposed to be after I had written before realizing the whole thing flips back and forth already).
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the long note, I hope you like it despite the wait and shortness... if you see any mistakes or inconsistencies please tell me as this is a work in progress and i didn't really edit it that well ^^;

 

He’s got it bad.

 

He’s got it real, real bad.

 

Lance finishes sticking the last glow star to his ceiling with a small smile.  

 

There’s a knock on his door, followed by Keith sticking his head in.  Yup, it’s bad.

 

“Dinner’s ready.”

 

Lance gasps, eyes widening in mock surprise.  “You didn’t tell me we were going on a date, I would have dressed up!”

 

He expected the glare.

 

He didn’t expect the blush.

 

“Just  _ shut up _ , Allura’s waiting.”

 

Lance blew Keith a fake kiss before the door slammed in his face.  Giggling, Lance grabbed a pen and his trusty jacket before walking to get food.

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

He stared at the goo, eyebrows raised.

 

Now, he’d been to this cafe before and the food tasted pretty good.

 

So… why was he sitting in an empty shop right now, a glass of water downed and a plate of unappetizing, disgusting electric lime green goo pushed to the side.

 

Pidge was barely containing her laughter, but hunk looked just as scandalized.

 

An unfamiliar man was grinning at them, orange mustache pulled upwards.  “This is my special, Altean Puree!  What do you think?”

 

He was torn between honesty and the strange instinct to please this strange man, whom he could only assume was the orange paladin.  He’s saved by Shiro.

 

“It’s… interesting”  Shiro manages, a wobbly smile on his face.  The man beams.

 

Allura laughs.  “This is Coran, a friend of my father’s.  He will help you in your missions, and corresponds with the Alteans.”

 

Lance nods.  “Cool beans.”

 

Keith gives him a horrified look.  “Did you just say cool beans?”

 

“...yeah?”

 

He still looks horrified when Shiro leans forward (very carefully avoiding the goo) and sketches something onto the table.  A map appears, flickering slightly as lightning pulses along the edges.  Lance can’t help his curious poke and tiny screech as it sends shocks bursting up his arms.  He doesn’t really know what he expected, but they couldn’t have actually expected him  _ not  _ to touch it-

Allura’s glare quickly convinces him otherwise.

 

“The Lions paper is made of a special crystal found in Balmeran territory.  Usually we have free access to the crystals due to a deal Altea struck up with the group, but recently their communications have cut down to silence.  We believe they may have been taken over by the Galra, someone must have leaked that those crystals are used to make magical weapons.  Before we were cut off however, we had time to make four items called Bayards.  They draw on the magic held in your blood, your quintessence, to send your color into the weapon, personalizing it.  It’s like a drawing in the form of a statue?  It’s blueprints were lost tech we found in this facility.”

 

“This facility was here before?” Was asked by Hunk at the same time Pidge stood up on the thin bar of the seat and stared inches away from the map.  “Technology like that is amazing, how does it work?”

 

Allura shrugs slightly, lips pursing as she lifts a box onto the table (Lance half expects dust to puff out from the old cardboard).

 

“My father, Alfor, found this place years ago.  It has been greatly improved since then, and he thought it was an inkheart refuge years ago when they were hunted for being witches.  The history of this building is extensive.  And as for the technology, I’m not sure how it works.  My quintessence isn’t compatible with them.  However, I must warn you that you must have extensive control over your magic, else the results could be deadly.  I would like to test your magic, so once you finish eating we will go to the training room.”

 

“We can’t have them yet!?” Pidge looks absolutely crestfallen, before her eyes change to glaring at her green-stained hand.

 

Lance glances at the food goo, snorts softly, and stands.

 

“Well I need my chillaxin time, so let’s get started, yeah?”

 

Keith raises his brows, tilting his head slightly (that shouldn’t be endearing, but it is).  “You hate training, why are you in a hurry?”

 

“It’s  _ magic _ Keith!  A gift to us poor souls, struggling to-”

 

“It could be a curse.”

 

They stare at each other, two ideals flowing together to try to explain things that belonged in the past.

 

Pidge slides off her stool, jolting the two back to the rest of Voltron.  “Well  _ I  _ want to take a look at this tech, so we might as well get this ‘testing’ over with.

 

A few minutes later Lance regrets everything.  His lion deck is a constant glow of blue, magic shooting from his hands, his eyes, his  _ feet  _ for godsakes.  And the entire time a steady chain of complaint falls from his tongue.

 

“Oh don’t use weapons!  As if they aren’t magic as well,  _ honestly _ .  And okay!  Defend against three gladiators and ten shooting mini bots, I’m  _ sure _ -” His ropes snap out to lift him into the air right as a barrage of bullets hit where he was standing “You’ll be able to handle it, so simple after all, well- WHAT THE CHEESE” Yelping, he scrambles on sheets of ice as a sword whizzes towards his head.

 

His hand starts shaking, the words his only distraction from bare skin.  The deck doesn’t feel like enough, not for this, and someday he’ll be able to use it comfortably but it’s too soon.

 

Ice shards snap out into the remaining minibots, piercing them dead center even as they try to evade.  He can’t take a moment to admire it, the electronics buzzing on the floor.  The two completely frozen over, another three roped with water.  But the sound of flickering gives him an idea.  The elite bots are too strong to be stuck in his freezing spells for too long, but if he can just-

 

As if the earth is cracking below him, tendrils of ice race along like crevices in the ground, spreading up metallic legs and encasing power cores.

Lance takes a deep breath, spreading his legs into a deep stance as he breathes in.  It builds- builds, builds,  _ builds. _

And releases.

Water rushes out of him, his card turning pure blue as the ink rushes out into a flood of water and magic and destruction.

 

It’s a simple half breath to rope up and freeze it all over.

 

But it’s too much, and the world falls into black.

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

It’s cold.

 

He slowly stands, looking around him in confusion.  The place looks familiar,  but wrong somehow.

 

_ I shouldn’t be here. _

 

He steps, half expecting his breath to fog up in the air but there’s nothing, just that strange weight in the space around him.  Glancing down at his hands, Lance pulls up short.

 

They’re small, covered in tiny scratches and still thick with a child’s weight.  But the most alarming thing is that they’re see-through.

 

He knows where this is.

 

Starboy turns, panicking, his knowledge of the future fading away into the  _ now _ , into the knowledge that they will catch him if he doesn’t run but his legs are twisted, and he can’t pick up the pen that’s rolled too far away.  There’s thundering steps, so loud in comparison to the rest of reality, slowly reeling into clarity, the terror a tangible thing in his mouth, in his ears, pounding, pounding,  _ pounding _ -

 

With a gasp, Starboy wakes up.

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

“LANCE!  You have to unfreeze the door!”

He’s shaking, but still he slowly pushes himself up on hands- hands that are weighted with the real world, thin and callused from growth and training.

 

He got out.  He got out, he’s fine, it was just training…

 

His magic is practically gone, and the loss of the thing that has kept him from capture so many times nearly freezes his blood over completely.

 

But the prison he’s in right now is one of his own making, one he can destruct if he drops that lost of magic into the ground.  So he does, pulling all the shards of ice and water back into his cards with a hollowness he should probably be worried about, but all he can think about is his failures, of the rest of the team and they’re safe, they  _ have _ to be-

 

The door opens and they rush in, two familiar arms wrapping around him and Lance falls into the comfort of Hunk, of his friend, of the only one who was there when he broke apart.

 

“That was so scary man, I didn’t know you had gotten so good at controlling it.  And that flood-” Hunk pulls back, scowling as much as he ever can.  “You worried me.  You know what we said about overdoing it-”

 

“I’m sorry”  Lance whispers, clinging tighter before relaxing and letting go.  His smile is thin, but it’s there, and that’s all it needs to be.  “I panicked.”

 

It’s a fluid movement to stand, despite the rush of emotions draining through his limbs, and he leaves to let the other paladins test as Allura redraws the bots in hot pink chalk on the training room floor.

 

He tunes out most of the other paladins, in favor of their privacy and in rest, gathering up magic slowly and trying to dull the edge on his thoughts.

 

By the time he comes back, after all the paladins have finished going through Allura’s crazy regimen, her eyes are a storm and her face is pinched with disappointment.

 

“I expected better from you, this is ridiculous!  How is your control so weak?  We are going to be fighting against the galra, this is unacceptable.  Go rest, we’ll have to train extensively tomorrow.  We go to the Balmera in a week- it won’t be adequate, but it will have to do. We don’t have time to train the long way, it will be an accelerated program.  I hope you are prepared.”

 

Lance scans the room with a tight frown, trying to analyze how it went.  Pidge looks frazzled, eyes wide behind her glasses and hair an electric mess.  Dirt and leaves are smeared across her face, but her hands hang limply at her sides and don’t bother sweeping it away.  Keith’s hair looks a little burnt, and soot coats his limbs.  His fingers are clenched, and Lance can’t bring himself to tease him.  Not when he looks so frustrated and Lance himself looking like a wet dog.  Hunk just looks defeated, cuts clotting his arms.  Shiro looks the best of them, but there’s still some cuts on his face and his skin looks like he ran out into a tornado.

 

They all turn to go, but Lance feels Allura’s hand on his arm.

 

“Lance, please stay.  I have to talk to you.”

 

He freezes, dread pooling in his gut.  He can’t help the way his gaze drop to the floor, the way his shoulders sag.  A warm shoulder brushes against his, but Lance just shakes his head at Keith’s concerned face.

 

Then they’re alone.

 

Lance opens his mouth to speak, to apologize-

 

“Blue, you are the only paladin with enough control to receive your bayard.”

 

His head snaps up, dark eyes wide.  A blue hexagonal oval with padding and an obvious grip sits in her hands.  He’s cautious as he takes it, almost expecting her to pull it back and smirk at him.  But she doesn’t.

 

It flares brightly in his hands, blue marks running up and down the sleek sides of a newly formed rifle.

 

“This is supposed to draw from your magic to create marks along the sides according to what you’re thinking of.  So for you, it will be shooting ice and ropes most often.  It helps with control and ammo, but is as draining as it would be using magic manually so be careful.  Eventually you’ll be able to form swords imbued with blizzards and other types of weapons, but Balmeran crystal is almost sentient in it’s movements.  Those abilities will only come when you are as comfortable with it as you are with your own weapons.  For now, don’t flaunt it in front of the other paladins.  You can use it, of course, but I don’t want to cause rifts before we even fully join.”

 

Lance clutches the bayard to his chest, eyes shining as he feels it call to him.  Suddenly it warps, wrapping around his wrist in a band of blue metal.  His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks.  “Thank you, Allura.”

 

She smiles, patting his shoulder.  “You earned it  But training is going to be just as severe for you so don’t get too comfortable.  I look forward to learning how you control your magic so well compared to the others.”

 

_ Years of training and fear _ .

 

He walks out the door, ready to crash and learn how to wield the bayard, but his curious thoughts are interrupted.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Lance stares in shock at Keith as the boy pushes off the wall, unfolding his crossed arms and peering at him with concern.  Emotions overwhelms the paladin, and he dips his head to hide a smile.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Umm, thank you.  For caring, that is.”

 

Keith breathes a sigh of relief, moving into a walk towards their rooms.  “It would have been stranger if I didn’t care.”

 

Lance shrugs, following and absently noting his fingers tracing bracelets, both old and new.  “I’ve learned not to expect it.”

 

The boy looks like he wants to say something more, but just turns his head with a scowl.  

They reach the door and Lance snorts, reaching for Keith’s hair before his brain can process the action.

 

“I should’ve known you would set this on fire eventually.”

 

Then he’s freezing, slowly pulling his hand back with a fragile smile.  He hadn’t meant to do that.  But it’s almost worth it to see what looks to be the barest tinges of Red on the namesake paladin.  Almost worth it to feel the soft strands brush his fingers.

  
He slips into his room, peering down at the bayard innocently shimmering on his wrist before curling onto the bed, half searching for the smell of campfires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be out eventually. But now its klance week (HOW DID I MISS THAT!?) so I'll probably be working on other stuff. And there's gonna be finals soon.  
> jeez.
> 
> I hope you liked it, and as always feel free to message me or [send me](http://klance-is-now-my-life-force.tumblr.com/) prompts :)


	8. Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MAGIC
> 
> Someone: Linea you need more in a summary than just-
> 
> Me: MAGIIIIIICCCCCCCC
> 
> help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I procrastinate typing up the last 2 pages for weeks? Yes, yes i did.
> 
> I didn't beta it, here y'all go. What even is this chapter. sjdfkl.

Keith stares up at the ceiling, thoughts wild in his head.  The training room keeps replaying, how without his sword everything he thought he knew fled in panic, how years of experience burned away to reveal how little he trusted his own magic.  The difference between his performance and Lance’s had been stark- almost a wake up call of sorts.  Watching Lance fight like that had been amazing- had ached as well, knowing  _ why  _ he was so comfortable in his own skin, the fear of being trapped again.  But it was no surprise to him, watching now, that he had never truly beat Blue.  How could he, flames barely a flicker compared to the hurricane that was Blue?

 

He wanted to learn, but that ugly  _ things _ was still there, shutting his palm and smothering the flames before they could grow too large.

 

Screams-

No.

 

If he unlocked his magic but his temper flared again… He didn’t want to hurt anyone, not here.  Not when he was finally starting to feel like he belonged again.

 

And speaking of belonging.

Lance was going to drive him crazy.

 

Groaning, Keith flipped around and dug his head into his pillow, taking comfort in the warmth and feeling his strands of hair brush against flushed cheeks.

 

He almost falls asleep like that, spiraling through different topics from  _ god his smile _ to the feeling of losing control, of letting the world wreath into flame.

 

A soft knock at the door jolts him back into reality, and with another groan he drags himself over to the door.  It opens, revealing a Lance who just stands there before slowly bringing his hands up and squishing Keith’s cheeks together.

 

He tries to jerk back, words muffled into a “Waf a uu doin??”

 

Lance lets go a strides in, flopping onto the floor as if he was comfortable in his own room.  Keith suddenly feels self conscious about it- how it almost looked unlived in.

 

“Allura said you had the hardest time during the drill, and told me to, in her words, ‘do something’.  I’m not exactly sure what she expects but I figured I might as well show up.”

 

Fear and disappointment are a sludge in his limbs, but he tries to shake them off.  “O-oh.”

 

“Obviously I don’t know how good you are, but I read as a kid and they always said fire was influenced by temper so I’ll adopt my meditating thing.  Who knows, maybe you’ll even like it Mullet.”

 

“I really wish you’d drop that name” he mumbles, sitting down on the bed anyways.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Keith gets the distinct feeling he said something wrong when Lance just stares.  He’s about to apologize when Lance breaks into a wide smile, eyes soft.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m used to your flames Red.  My water will protect me just fine. Look at you Keithy, growing up to care about other people”  Keith glares as Lance wipes his dry eyes.  “I’m just so proud-”

 

“I’m going to make you a shish-kebab if you don’t shut up.”

 

Lance grins again, that softness still lingering on his lips.  “Nah.  You won’t.”

 

A very flustered Keith automatically picks up the blank card offered from Lance’s hand.

 

“Alright, just draw a little flame, okay?  Like a candle.”

 

Mutely, Keith halts the shaking in his fingers and draws the little spark, before looking up and freezing.

 

Lance looks like he’s sleeping, eyes closed and breathing slow.  But all around him water glows, a dance of streams and teardrops.  They seem like an extension of the paladin, lifting with a breath and falling in the same rhythm.  Some ribbons dart out and back in, some freeze and others burn.  The effect is calming, peaceful,  _ beautiful _ .

 

A blue eye cracks open, and keith almost wants to tell him not to stop, to just let him watch that magic run so freely.

 

He’ll never be able to be that open.

 

All the pieces coalesce into one, a single drop a turning orb in front of him.

 

“Summon it.”

 

“Lance-”

 

“You won’t hurt me.  I promise.”

 

Wary, keith lets it flicker to life in his palm.  Lance glances at his legs and snorts, shaking his head slightly.  “I don’t think you’re flexible enough to sit like I am, so just stay like that for now.  I don’t really know how this is going to work for you, so we’ll just go with it.”

 

Biting his lip, Keith watches as the flame sputters, trying to flow as he pulls his hand away and lets it stand alone.

 

“Close your eyes.  Breath slowly, become one with your magic.  Reach for it but don’t touch it, accept it as part of you.”

 

“This really isn’t a good idea.”

 

Sighing, Lance glares at him.  “I can’t help you if you won;t even meditate, Keith.”  The gaze softens and Keith looks away.  “Something happened, didn’t it?”

 

“No.”

 

He knows his answer was too quick, too harsh.  Guilt floods him immediately, and he’s almost frantic as he glances back up.  Lance has told him so much, he can make one concession.  Even to just wipe that look of self-depreciation off that face.  “Yes, I don't know.  I can’t talk about it.”

 

Lance studies him for a second before nodding slowly.  “Alright.  You’ll have to face it at some point thought, here.  Not that I’m one to speak.  Just try this for now.”

 

“I can’t let go of control, not-”

 

“Keith.  I know what it feels like, but it isn’t losing control.  It’s becoming one, it helps you  _ gain _ control.  No matter how counterintuitive it seems.  Plus, I can shield myself if it really gets too bad.”

 

So Keith gives in.  And lets go.

Immediately the flame roars, bursting into existence.  Panic explodes within him and his hold slips away, disappearing,  _ devouring- _

 

The entire room whooshes out, smothering the fire instantly.

 

“Keith, just listen to me, you’re alright.  We’re alright.  Breathe in… out… in… out…”

 

He slowly becomes aware of the arms wrapped around him and tightens his own hold, shaking. He feels the wince more than he hears it, and scrambles back when he realizes that his hands are burning coals.

 

“Fuck, Lance-”

 

“It’s okay!  I’m fine, just calm down.  Christ, I didn’t think it would be quite that bad.”

 

“I  _ told _ you-”

 

“Yeah, yeah I know.”  Lance drags his hands across his face, breaths heavy with… something.

 

Keith stands, glaring at nothing in particular.  “I hurt you.”

 

“I hurt myself by hugging you when you were a fucking furnace.  And I’d do it again.”

 

“Still-”

 

Lance downright growls, placing a slender finger on Keith’s lips.  He stills, looking at his friend solemnly.

 

“I know you can do this.  I’ll be more careful next time, but we have to do this.  Fuck, if I knew a better way I’d tell you but now I’ve seen it we definitely need this before you try fighting with more than what you’re already comfortable with.  You’re amazing, Keith, you’ll figure it out.”

 

Keith sags, leaning into the other boy and closing his eyes.  “I’m still sorry.”

 

He could swear he fels lips pressing into his hair, but he must have imagined it.  Yet still he clings to the soft whisper accentuated by tightening arms.  “I know.”

 

#####  ⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈⏈

 

Lance won’t let him come with to the healing sector, claiming something about seducing the princess which definitely does  _ not  _ make his heart clench.

 

So he sits, glaring at his hands that always hurt rather than protect.  It isn't until his stomach growls that he remembers his body actually needs stuff to survive.

 

When did he get so close to Lance?  On that sandy beach where Blue fell apart?  When they first started expecting to fight each other during jobs?  Hell, that day at the cafe when he first realized the identity of the boy beyond ‘Blue’?

 

Everything is almost too much- he wants to train to clear his mind but using magic just then was near one of the worst things he could do.

 

The goo is disgusting, without a doubt, but he’ had worse.  They all have.  So he marches himself to the kitchen and sits, falling back into a state of lucid-dreaming.  Thoughts are jumbled streaks of paint in his mind, and he tries to sort out the colors but success is nearly impossible in his current state.

 

“Dude, I can’t believe you can stomach that.”  Keith jerks out of it, looking up at Hunk in alarm.  He hadn’t even noticed the other paladin coming near “It tastes like my sister’s cooking, and trust me that is  _ not  _ a compliment.

 

“It’s better than nothing.”

 

Hunk stops, and even Keith knows from the short time they’ve hunt around together that it’s uncharacteristic of the yellow paladin.

 

“Yeah.  That’s true.”

 

There’s stories layered in those words.  Some he’ll never know, others will be revealed as the team becomes closer and closer.  He’s curious, a little, but not as much as he is about Lance.  About every little tick that paladin holds close.

 

He almost wants to apologize for bringing up bad memories, but just sits quietly.  Apologizing will bring attention to it, will cast awkwardness into the air.

 

“Do you like being a Paladin?”

 

The words slip out, and Keith wants to screech before permanently sewing his mouth shut because that was  _ not  _ much better.  But he settles for looking down and playing with his spoon, forcing the sounds bubbling up to stay in his throat.

 

Hunk slowly sits across from him, something fancy he can’t recognize on the plate.

 

“I can’t imagine a life without it.  I probably wouldn’t be alive.  I don’t like how it can hurt people I love, but it’s also something that can and has helped them. But if you’re asking if I enjoy the magic itself, I don’t enjoy it nearly as much as Lance does.”

 

His goo is so interesting…. Green… swirly..

 

“Ah.”

 

“Why the question?”

 

He scrunches his nose up, letting his spoon plop into the bowl.  “Just trying to figure stuff out I guess.”

 

Standing, Keith dumps his goo and pauses in the doorway before leaving.

 

“Thank you.”

 

 

He lets his steps carry him, unsurprised when he ends up in front of Lance’s door.

 

He wanted to try using his magic again.

 

It was selfish, and scared him, and he didn’t want to hurt Lance but he was  _ tired _ of fearing it.  Lance… made him want to become better.

 

So he takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

 

There's a long minute before it opens, and Keith half expected the need to knock again.  But his re-raised fist falls in shock at the sight of a shirtless Lance with raised brows.

 

“Sup Keithy?”

 

_ Don’t let your eyes fall, don’t you dare let your eyes fall- godammit Kogane you let them fall.   _

 

“Umm I just- I wanted-”

 

Lance laughs, stepping back.  Guilt flares in Keith’s gut when he sees soft burn marks on Lance’s skin, but the paladin hardly seems bothered by them.

A flash of that cruel face-

 

“Oi.  I already told you not to feel bad about them.”

 

“But don’t they hurt?” Keith’s mouth is just  _ not  _ in sync with his brain today.  “I mean, you barely seem to mind, but the other people I accidentally burned-” He cuts himself off, biting his lips compulsively.

 

Lance looks surprised, voice slipping into a soft hum.  “I’m sure my element is helping, plus Allura worked her magic, but I just have a high pain tolerance.  Yours is really high too, you just don’t realize it.”

 

Keith slowly sits down, feeling his brow furrow.  Lance has a point, and he’s seen the paladin walk almost unhindered with a gash in his side before but now that he’s thinking about it… “Don’t you…  _ remember _ things when you meditate?”

 

Lance stiffens before easing again.  “It did at first.  But meditating isn’t really what I’m doing.  It’s not like sleeping, or that stupid mind-meld exercise.  I’m, flowing into my magic.  It isn’t not thinking, it’s thinking as water would think, like my magic thinks.  So no, it doesn't bring back bad memories.  It;s actually one of the few times I can escape them- to a simpler, beautiful world.  Although now that I’m thinking of it…”  His eyes darken and he looks Keith in the eyes, trying tp imprint  _ something  _ into his mind.  “If you lose yourself to the flames, I won’t be able to save you.”

 

“Wha- you did before.”

 

“No no, that was panicking and losing control.  I’m talking about your identity. No matter how much you enjoy it, you have to come back alright.  Promise me.”

 

“I- I promise?”

 

It seems to ease the other boy, as he leans back and rubs his temples.  “I can’t believe I didn't think of this.  Don’t meditate when I’m not around, alright?”

 

“I wasn’t planning on-”

 

“Just don’t.”

 

Keith sits, confused as Lance pulls his water drop back into existence.

 

“I’ll be here, so don’t be afraid, alright?”

 

Keith looks down, wincing.   _ That’s part of the reason I’m afraid, idiot, quit throwing yourself into danger. _

 

Je tries to slow his breathing, to fall into the flames but he knows he’s holding himself back.  That feeling of burning, of losing, like everything was rushing out of him-

 

Focus.

 

Thirty minutes later he snuffs the flame in disgust.  “It isn’t working”

 

Lance doesn’t even open his eyes, water spider-webbing over some invisible bubble.  “Because you aren’t letting go.”

 

Huffing, Keith glares.  “I  _ know.   _ What i  _ don’t  _ know is how to fix it.”

 

“Well… try looking into the flames.  Sorta like losing yourself into them but don’t, yanno, actually do that.,”

 

“That doesn’t even make sense”

 

“Your  _ face  _ doesn’t make sense.”

 

He goes to stand up but a familiar arm stops him, pulling him back down.  Those beautiful eyes are on him now, mouth turned down slightly and touch burning into his skin.

 

“You did it before.  I’m here to catch you, I promise.  It’s like easing into water, or… or the slow slide of candle wax down a flame.  You have too many walls up.”  LAnce withdraws his hand, gaze falling slightly.  “You need to at least let yourself out, even if you won’t let anyone else in.”

 

_ Oh, but can’t you see that you’re slicing through them already? _

 

He frowns at the flame, closing his eyes.  And for the second time that day, he lets go.

 

It’s different.  He forces himself not to panic, seeking solace in the waves even as he burns them away.  He loses sight of Lance, of his eyelids, of the flame and  _ becomes. _

 

_ Oh. _

 

All the vague notions suddenly snap into place as he flickers, greedily taking in air and looking for more to burn.  He sparks, slightly, vixion tainted by red and orange.  He falls again, and thought ceases.  He just is.  A myriad of color and flame where cld is but a notion that doesn't exist.  It’s liberating.  Hsi magic growing, connecting, and he hangs there with relinquished control yet somehow knowing more than before, like he could roar into wildfire at the slightest breath if he so wished.

 

He’s unstoppable.

 

Something foreign comes near and he tenses, burning brighter, but while he  _ should _ feel hostile he doesn’t.  Carefully he reaches out, then throws himself in all at once, entwining with the water before him.  Pleasure ripples through his being and he clings tighter.  They’re swirling, opposites, becoming one-

 

He gasps, eyes shooting open as he scrambles up and frantically tries to cut off his flames.  Surprisingly they respond instantly.  His head snaps up towards Lance who seems to be in a similar state, pupils blown but scrambling to put distance between them.

 

“What the  _ hell  _ was that?”

 

“I-I don’t…” Lance looks almost frightened.  “That’s never…”

 

Keith tries to calm himself down, staring at the flame still burning evenly in his fingers.

 

“Well, whatever it was it helped.  Thank you.”  And he means it.

 

Lance blinks, then smiles softly.  “I’m glad.  Come here anytime you want to do that again, I’ll be here.”

 

He only hesitates for another moment before nodding.  “If you’re sure.”

 

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'D


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